


One Step at a Time

by the_og_straya



Series: One Step at a Time [2]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Awesome Natasha Romanov, Awesome Sam Wilson, BAMF Bucky Barnes, BAMF Natasha Romanov, BAMF Pepper Potts, Besides Pepper, Bucky Barnes Gets a Hug, Bucky Barnes Has Issues, Bucky Barnes Has PTSD, Bucky Barnes Has Panic Attacks, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes is not okay, Business ideas, Counselor Sam Wilson, Fluff, Happy Ending, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Nightmares, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Not Captain America: The Winter Soldier Compliant, Panic Attacks, Pepper Potts is a good friend, Pierce is Hydra, Pierce is a dick, Post-Captain America: The First Avenger, Protective Natasha Romanov, Protective Sam Wilson, SO MUCH FLUFF, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Sam Wilson is So Done, Sam Wilson is the Only Functional Person, Steve Rogers Is Not Okay, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, This Ignores Basically All Canon, Touch-Starved Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:35:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 19,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24074548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_og_straya/pseuds/the_og_straya
Summary: Bucky finds a way to come back, with a little help from friends and a lot of help from one Pepper Potts. Not Civil War-compliant, and none of the movies after. Because I need happy boys.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Natasha Romanov, James "Bucky" Barnes & Pepper Potts, James "Bucky" Barnes & Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: One Step at a Time [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1736857
Comments: 167
Kudos: 100





	1. Meeting Pepper

**Author's Note:**

> Ok SO I had a prequel to this posted a while ago; Bucky was walking out of a Starbucks when Steve saw him and kind of.... lost it? Because he hadn’t seen him in literally eighty years. But I can’t FIND the prequel now because apparently I’m insane. If someone knows where it is, please tell me, I’m desperate 😂 anyways. Hope y’all like it!!
> 
> ......I found it. Never mind 😂 I’ve linked it!! It’s now the first part in the series.

Pepper Potts was ready for most anything; it’s part of the reason Pepper is her nickname. She’s a fiery fierce fighter who won’t back down if she knows she’s doing the right thing. She likes to think of herself as a badass, and in all honesty she probably is. That’s why she didn’t flinch when a man brushed past her and tucked a folded-up piece of paper in her hand. Once on the subway, she unfolded it and began to read. She was suddenly very glad she was sitting down. “ _Ms. Potts_ ,” the letter started. “ _My name is James Buchanan Barnes. You’ll have heard of me if you ever picked up a World War II U.S. history book._

_“I need your help, but you can’t tell anyone. I can’t come back yet, and for both our sakes, I won’t say why. Suffice it to know I’m doing what I can to come back. And please, don’t tell Steve. He’ll never let it go and he’ll track me down before I’m ready._

_“Now on to why I’ve contacted you. I have a business proposition, of sorts. You see, I spent quite a bit of time homeless a while ago (please don’t feel bad, I’m alright now), and I learned a few things. I want to help who I can. Most homeless people in New York are veterans—at least, most of the ones I’ve talked to are—and I want to give them a chance. Attached are my phone number and address. Communicate how you like, but please, not face-to-face. Not yet, at least. I’ll let you know when I’m ready. As I’m hoping you’ll understand, I’m still working through things._

_“Thank you. I really mean that.”_

It was signed “ _J. Barnes_ ,” and Pepper couldn’t help the smile as she read the postscript. “ _Sorry for bumping into you_.” She pulled out her phone to put his contact information in, brain going ninety miles a minute.

“ _Mr. Barnes_ ,” she began her text. “ _I am very interested in what you have to say. If you are not averse to phone calls, I would like to schedule one for tomorrow, say 10am. Thank you for contacting me, and you have my word that no one will find out from me_.”

She pocketed her phone and the note, vowing not to check it until she got home. Instead, she sat back and daydreamed about what he was going to say. He had been vague in the letter, and Pepper guessed it was on purpose.

On the elevator to her and Tony’s floor, she finally pulled out her phone again.

“ _That sounds amazing, and please, call me Bucky. I’ll speak to you tomorrow_.”

She smiled and slid her phone back into its pocket, almost not noticing when Tony came in, smelling slightly of smoke.

Key word: almost.

“Tony, what on earth have you done?” She sighed, looking him up and down as he grinned sheepishly at her.

* * *

He had a plan, he swore he did. But when Pepper Potts came on the phone, he froze up. Slightly. He was still the Winter Soldier, after all; and no mere woman could make him freeze.

Pepper Potts, however, was no mere woman. She was a force to be reckoned with, and at this point in time, all that force was pointed sweetly at him.

“Bucky? Are you there?”

“Hey, yes, sorry, I’m here. I, uh... it’s been a while. I’m trying to distance myself. From people in general.”

“We don’t have to do this now. If you’re not ready, if you’re not comfortable, we can stop this right now and wait until you’re ready.” Her voice was gentle, and Bucky appreciated it.

“I... I’m fine, I think. It’s a rather big step but one I needed to take. Uh, how long is our... meeting... scheduled for?”

“As long as you need,” she said warmly, and he could hear the smile in her voice. “I was almost wondering if you’d rather just talk first. As people, not as business associates.”

“I- yeah, that sounds good. Thank you, Ms. Potts.”

“Please, call me Pepper. And speaking of names, I was wondering a few things about yours.”

“Bucky is fine,” he assured her.

“Thank you. That answers one question, possibly both. If someone comes in, how would you like me to address you? Tony is known for barging in whenever he likes, my assistant will poke her head in from time to time, and at one point or another, I can promise you _all_ the Avengers will come bother me about something or other. Not that I mind, it’s a good distraction. I just wish they’d knock first.”

“None of them knock?” Bucky asked incredulously, and she laughed.

“None. Well, Steve will knock and then immediately open the door, so I don’t know that it fully counts.”

“Probably not,” he agreed. “And as for my name, how about James Hunt? It was my ma’s maiden name, and it’s going to be the name of what will hopefully become my company, so it would make sense.”

“Sounds good,” she promised him. “So, Bucky, anything in particular you’ve been doing since you got back? I’m assuming you spend a lot of time at home. Do you have a TV?”

“And a laptop,” he nodded, then felt like an idiot because she couldn’t see him nodding. “I’ve been catching up on a lot of shows, and the Internet has been... mostly helpful.”

“Please tell me you haven’t found Reddit yet.”

He blinked. “Reddit?”

“A perfect example of why humanity is both a gift and a curse. You’re better off not knowing. What’ve you been watching on TV?”

“Mostly documentaries and nature shows. There’s this one show, though, called Gilmore Girls?”

He could practically hear her grin. “Bucky, whenever you decide to come back, you’ll fit right in.”

“You know the show?”

“It’s one of my favorites,” she confirmed. “Feeling better now?”

He thought about it and realized he was; all nerves had fled. “I am, thank you. You’re really good at that.”

“Thank you,” she chuckled. “Should we get to business, then?”

“Yeah, sounds good. Fair warning, I’ll probably start ranting excitedly about it. I haven’t had a chance to discuss it with anyone else, but this is something I’m very passionate about.”

“I completely understand,” she soothed. “And trust me, there’s no way you’ll be worse than Tony. Talking a mile a minute about things I can’t even _begin_ to comprehend.”

“Okay. Well, it all started when I was homeless as I said in my letter. I met a lot of vets who don’t want to be out on the streets. A lot of ‘em need some sort of counseling or therapy. They want work, but no one’ll hire ‘em. Then I spoke to one guy, someone I still keep in contact with, who had worked for the postal service before he served. It’s messed up, Pepper. There’s nothing for packages over seventy pounds, so there’s basically no way for stores to ship anything through USPS.”

“So what is your plan, exactly?”

“A trucking company. I know companies already exist, but I’m willing to bet there’s a niche in the market that hasn’t been exploited yet. I want to hire vets and, generally, people down on their luck to drive and distribute the packages. Most vets don’t have any driving-related triggers, but obviously they’ll all get tested.“

“It sounds like a wonderful idea,” Pepper said encouragingly. “I’m still a little confused, however. Why did you contact me? What can I, or Stark Industries, do to help?”

“Publicity. Truck engines. I recently... _acquired_ a large sum of money, and I’m confident I can pay whatever fees are necessary for the business.”

“Bucky, I feel inclined to tell you that sooner or later, you’ll have to reveal yourself as the president of the company. People won’t wait forever.”

“And when that time comes, I’ll deal with it. I want to be involved in every step; every person hired, every good and bad thing that happens. We can just say I’m just trying to make a difference and I don’t want a name or face attached to the company, right?”

“I suppose so,” she mused. “Yes, that should work.” She began to grin, something Bucky heard when she next spoke. “Bucky, I believe we have a deal.”

He didn’t remember responding or ending the call. He blinked back to awareness and his cheeks hurt from how much he’d been smiling.

He’d finally gotten his chance.


	2. Pepper Calls Bucky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Describing Steve’s self-preservation instincts as being like a “suicidal lemming” is now my favorite thing and I’m not even sorry about it.
> 
> Does anyone even know what lemmings are or is it just me with my weird obscure trivia knowledge?
> 
> Anyways. Enjoy!

The next day Pepper called again for a completely different reason. “Are you home?”

Fear gripped his chest at her tone. “Yes.”

“Sit down. Turn the TV on. Channel four.”

Every word was clipped, tense enough to hide the shake, but Bucky caught it anyways. “What-”

“Just do it. Please.” She sighed, another tense thing that held a sob. “I- I’m so sorry, Bucky.”

“Pepper, you’re scaring me,” he informed her as he searched for the remote. “And I don’t _get_ scared.”

“You’re human, Bucky, like hell you don’t get scared. I’m sorry. Just-” she cut off before the full sob could escape.

He paused before turning the TV on. “Pepper, should I come over?”

“Y-you said you weren’t ready.”

“That was before you started crying on the line. If you need me to come over, I will. It’s okay.”

Another sigh, and she couldn’t hide the full sob this time. “Please.”

“I’ll be there in fifteen.”

“Stay on the line?”

“Of course. Stay with me, Pepper, just because I have panic attacks doesn’t mean I know how to talk someone else through one.”

“You have panic attacks? If it’s better for you not to come-”

“Pepper, please don’t try and talk me out of this. I’m aware enough of my situation to realize it’s mostly nerves preventing me from being out. This is the push I needed, even if I wish this had never happened in the first place.” He measured his breaths as he began running. “Can you tell me what happened? What’s going on?”

“It’s... it’s the Avengers. Bucky, Tony, he...” she broke off with a muffled sob. “He got hit. Went down. I don’t... I don’t see him.” She gulped. “I don’t... I don’t see Steve either,” she said quietly. “I didn’t see him get hit, but I don’t know for sure... and I can’t get through to anyone. Bucky, I’m scared.”

“It’s okay,” he said immediately. “Whatever it is, we’ll get through it together, right?”

She took a breath and pulled herself together. “Right. Of course. It’s- I’ll be fine. If you don’t want to come.”

“And miss out on the chance to speak face-to-face with Pepper Potts?” He made sure she could hear the grin in his voice. “You know Eleanor Roosevelt? She was the First Lady back when I was a teenager. Me and Steve used to listen to her speeches and we’d dream about the day women would _really_ be heard. It’s happening, now more than ever before, and you must be out of your mind if you think I’d pass on that opportunity.”

She took another steadying breath. “I never would’ve pegged you as a feminist.”

“Is that what it’s called?” Bucky chuckled. “Mostly it was just ‘shut your mouth Steve before we both get kicked in jail,’ but to each their own, I guess.”

She sniffed and audibly turned away from whatever TV or computer was playing the news. “Yes. Feminism is actually quite a big deal right now. It’s better than it was but it’s still not equal, and a lot of women are fighting for full equality.”

“Good for them,” Bucky praised. “Women back when I knew ‘em were stronger’n anyone gave ‘em credit for.” His voice softened. “Seems to me like you’re cut from the same cloth.”

Pepper chuckled slightly, still stilted with worry, but there nonetheless. “Seems to me like you do know how to talk someone down from a panic attack after all.” She sighed. “I really am fine now, I promise. You don’t have to come over.”

“It’s kinda too late,” he told her, staring up at the building in front of him. “I’m here.”

“Go around the back,” she told him, thinking quickly. “I’ll meet you there.”

“Any reason I shouldn’t go in through the front door?”

“Because the front has cameras that Tony has access to. The back does too, but these are also cameras I can control.” She typed as she spoke. “I’m currently deactivating all cameras along our path.”

“That won’t seem suspicious to Tony?”

“He never checks the feed, only when there’s a problem. This isn’t a problem.” She smiled reassuringly, hoping he could hear it in her voice. “Besides, I can have Friday ignore the disabled cameras. Right, girl?”

“Of course, Ms. Potts,” came the voice from the ceiling.

Bucky started, then stopped, four different swears, ending up with, “Wow.”

“Bucky, you know you’re allowed to curse, right? I don’t mind. I curse, so it’s be rather hypocritical of me not to let you.”

“Yeah,” he said, sounding embarrassed. “It’s mostly just from back then. It wasn’t something that was done. If you knew what was good for you, you didn’t curse at dames. Uh, sorry, women.”

Pepper chuckled again at his slip. “It’s alright, Bucky.” She stepped off the elevator and made her way to the doors, waving when she saw Bucky on the other side. She hung up and opened the door for him. “Bucky.”

“Pepper.”

“It’s good to finally meet you in person.”

“You too,” he promised, then gestured toward the rest of the building with a sweep of his arm. “Shall we?”

She took a breath and nodded, smiling slightly and accepting when he offered his arm.

“How’re you feeling?” He asked cautiously.

“Like my life is hung in the balance,” she answered wryly. “It’s happened before but that doesn’t make it any easier.”

“I know how that is,” he sympathized. “Have you heard stories about how Steve was? Before?”

“Not stories per se, but I saw the museum exhibit, I’ve read books... Captain America was someone you read about in history class in fourth grade. So I know a little bit.”

“Did your history books tell you how he had the preservation instinct of a suicidal lemming?” He smirked at Pepper. “He was always running into fights, and twice on Sundays. Women’s rights, blacks’ rights, gay, trans, purple polka-dot... it didn’t matter. Still doesn’t, I assume, though hopefully he’s grown up some since then, and not run head-first into everything.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” Pepper grimaced. “He’s half the reason I was freaking out. Tony’s down and Steve hasn’t been seen for a while.”

Bucky just sighed. “Of course he hasn’t.”

Pepper looked at him curiously. “You’re not worried?”

“I’m scared out of my mind,” he admitted. “But that won’t help anything. Either he’s okay or he’s not, but he’s too stubborn to die. He’s cheated death more’n anyone I know.”

She hummed and fell silent during their walk to the elevator, only speaking once they were inside. “Forgive me for asking, but you seem pretty well put together. Why won’t you come out of hiding?”

“I’m a damn good actor when I need to be. I’m okay enough to realize how much I’m really not okay. And I need to find some sort of balance before I come back. I’d like to sleep at least three nights a week without getting nightmares.”

“Could I maybe suggest a therapist?”

“If you can find a therapist that can deal with all this, then sure. I’d love the help.”

She smiled gently at him. “His name is Sam Wilson, better known as the Falcon.”

He frowned at her, thinking. “The guy out there with them right now? He’s mentally stable?” He quirks a brow and a corner of his lip.

“Believe it or not, yes,” she chuckled. “He works down at the VA. Uh- Veterans Affairs, sorry. He’s a therapist.”

Bucky shrugged. “Alright. And he’s trustworthy? If I ask him not to tell, he won’t?”

“I trust him.”

Bucky nodded decisively. “Then I do too.”

“Perfect,” she said. “I’ll set an appointment for you. Would you prefer a house call?”

“Please.”

She nodded and released a long breath as they arrived on her and Tony’s floor. The TV was off, but turned on when Pepper gestured to it. “Here it is. Friday, rewind to five minutes before I called Bucky, please.”

“Right away,” Friday said, and the video jumped back to the heat of the battle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please come yell with me in the comments about Steve and Bucky and badass Pepper Potts (please I’m lonely) ....haha 😬


	3. Neither of Them Are Okay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so at this point I’m not fully sure of what’s happening, though that could just be the fact that it’s 2:30am. I really did write this instead of sleeping.
> 
> As far as I know (because often times the story writes itself), Pepper didn’t know anything about the Winter Soldier. She just knows Bucky’s hurt & can’t come home yet. Sam (who will be introduced in the next chapter) does. Don’t ask me why. Logic doesn’t apply to this story.

> The Black Widow and Falcon were mostly fighting hand-to-hand against something that Bucky imagined looked like Martians. They were small and green, with huge eyes, long fingers—and two repulsor guns each. They looked to be four feet high, and rather stout; the Black Widow managed to get her legs around one of the Martian’s necks and it just rolled away, then jumped back up. Bucky winced, knowing exactly what those thighs could do, and watched as the battle unfolded. The Black Widow and Falcon were holding their own; Hawkeye was shooting exploding arrows towards masses of Martians; and Captain America was on the perimeter, keeping them confined so Hawkeye could pick them off. The camera panned up to reveal Iron Man blasting bunches of Martians, but they were returning fire, and they didn’t have great aim, but it wasn’t horrible, either. They had already hit the suit more than once, as evidenced by the burn marks on the red and gold.
> 
> One alien shot and hit the lucky target. Repulsor met repulsor and the resulting explosion knocked Iron Man out of the sky, suit offline. The Martians started to swarm him, the Black Widow and Falcon started to move towards him, and—

The screen shut off.

He turned towards Pepper, jumping slightly when he saw her crying. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Give me a minute.”

“Hey, no,” he said softly, arms outstretched, trying not to be awkward. “It’s alright. This is a hard thing and it’s okay to feel the things you do. Tony will be okay. He’s gone through way worse without the team with him, right?”

“I-” she choked on a sob. “I don’t know, Bucky, he’s never been hit in the arc reactor by another repulsor beam before. I don’t know what it did to him or the suit.” She tried to control the tears, but Bucky shook his head and gathered her in, slowly, letting her accept his embrace.

She curled into him and apologized again. “Nothing to it,” he promised her. “Tony will be okay. He’s got an amazing team with him and they won’t leave him there. He’s not alone anymore.”

Unwanted memories pressed in. Alone in boot camp, shivering in his bunk.

Alone in Azzano, repeating name, rank, serial number, as Zola and God-knows-who-else operated on him, pumped him full of God-knows-what.

Alone as he fell into the ravine, knowing he would die.

Alone as he rested in a cell, gathering strength for one of many fruitless attempts at escape.

Alone as they tortured him, abused him, used him.

He couldn’t hold in the flinch as he moved back to the present, and of course Pepper noticed. “Bucky?”

“Sorry,” he said, and only then did he realize he hadn’t been breathing. “Just- just give me a second.”

“Do you need to leave?” She asked seriously, wiping her face.

“I- no, thank you, but please... no.”

She offered her hand, palm up, and he studied it before placing his right hand on hers. Her fingers curled around the back of his hand. “I owe you an apology.” She was studying him, his face, and for a second he couldn’t say anything.

“No- Pepper, I swear-”

“No, Bucky, please. I do. If only for showing you before you were ready. Or for falling apart. Or for not sending a car to get you. Or for not offering to come to your apartment. Pick one.”

“Pepper, calm down,” he told her seriously. “I’m alright. Well, mostly. I was surprised by something I said. It’s not anything you did, said, didn’t do, or didn’t say. I promise. Now, back to the matter at hand. Tony will be alright, you’ll be alright, and you’ll be back to being annoyed at him for spending too long in the lab in no time.”

She tilted her head curiously at him. “How’d you know that?”

He held up a hand and ticked off the reasons. “I read. I’m a spy. And I knew Howard.” He blinked again, then twice, then smiled at her, tight-lipped. “It’s not too hard to figure out.”

She sighed out another breath, getting her breathing under control. “It happened again.”

“I’m sorry?”

She gestured at him. “Whatever happened before to make you flinch. It happened again.”

Bucky sighed. “Yeah. I’m remembering things. Not necessarily happy things, either.” He splayed out his hands against each other, looking at the metal against skin. “Do you know how I got this arm?”

Pepper shook her head slowly. “You don’t have to tell me.”

He just smiled sadly at her. “December 1944, I fell off a train in Germany, straight off the side of a cliff. I clip my arm on the way down and I can tell it’s shattered. There was enough snow on the bottom, and I hit my arm close enough to the bottom, that I wasn’t too broken up. Again, besides the arm.” He took a breath and sighed it out. “Hydra found me. They took off what was left of my arm and replaced it with this one. They wiped my memories and brainwashed me until I believed I didn’t have a name. I was just the Asset. I was told where to go, what to do, and I did it. No muss, no fuss, easy-peasy for the Germans.” He sighed again and looked back down at his hands. “They called me the Asset. Everywhere else, I heard myself being referred to as the Winter Soldier.” He nodded grimly at her look. “Credited with over a hundred confirmed kills, anywhere and everywhere in the world, for the past fifty years.” He sighed. “So can you understand why I can’t tell Steve? Why I asked if Sam is mentally stable?”

Pepper nodded then grabbed his hand again. “That’s not your fault. You were brainwashed and held against your will. You didn’t do any of those things. Hydra did.”

Bucky shrugged. “Still my body. Still my finger pulling the trigger. Still my brain remembering.”

Pepper sighed and sat back. “Are you hungry?”

Bucky blinked at the sudden change of pace. “I’m sorry?”

“Are you hungry?” She stood. “I’m hungry and I need something to keep my mind off Tony.”

Bucky smiled understandingly. “Sure. Want some help?”

She shrugged. “It’s only sandwiches. You can help by telling me what you want.”

“I’m sure whatever you’ve got is great,” he promised her. “What about if I make the sandwiches and you try and call them again? If they don’t answer you can come help me make the sandwiches. If they do answer, you can watch me make a fool of myself as I try to find everything.” He gave her a small smile and her phone.

She looked at him steadily for a moment before nodding and sitting at the bar, watching him as she put her phone to her ear. “The longer this rings with no answer, the higher my anxiety gets,” she remarked wryly.

“It’s been ten seconds, Pepper.”

“I don’t care, Bu- uh, James.” She turned away slightly and spoke into the phone. “Tony Stark I swear to God if you’re not okay-” she paused to listen, then nodded. “Good. Is everyone else okay? I didn’t see Steve on-screen for most of it.” She sighed and nodded. “Okay. I’ll have Cho prep the rooms. When do you think you’ll be home?” Her face fell as she listened to his answer. “Tony, no-” another sigh. “Yeah. Yeah I know. Okay. Be careful, okay?” She began to smile. “Because I love you. Bye.”

She sighed one last time and turned back to Bucky. “They’re all okay. Tony’s gonna have a hell of a bruise, but Steve’s okay, just kept out of the camera frame for most of it. They’re staying for another four hours to help clean up and speak to the local authorities, and then travel time is another two hours, so they should be home around dinner time.”

“I’m glad they’re okay.”

“Me, too,” she promised him, smiling. “And thank you for coming over and helping me.”

“It really was nothing. You helped me too. Gave me that push I needed.”

She grinned at him, one that he slowly returned. “So, sandwiches?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always Kudos keep me thriving and comments keep me happy and I’m always willing to yell with you about any and all of the characters. Hope you liked it! Chapter 4 should be up soon. It just depends when I finish writing it. 😂


	4. Meeting Sam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m baaaaack!
> 
> Hi everyone!!! I’m SO sorry I left. Things happened. But I’m back now!! Enjoy chapter 4!! It’s sort of a belated 21sf birthday present to myself. 😂

Sam liked to think himself a decent, well-rounded guy. He knew maybe he wasn’t completely okay—his heart rate sped up when he heard a police siren or saw an officer walking towards him—but that was the product of his childhood.

But nothing could prepare him for what he saw when he knocked on the door of the apartment Pepper had written out for him. “As a personal favor,” she’d said, and Pepper’s good people—plus she’s scary when she’s angry—so he went.

The door slowly opened to reveal someone he had no business knowing as well as he did except for the fact that he knew Steve Rogers.

“Hi,” he said, arranging his face into a smile. “Sam Wilson.”

He returned the smile just a bit and opened the door wider. “James Barnes, though I have the feeling you know who I am. Come in. Can I get you a drink?”

“Water would be great, thanks.” He made his way to the couch and allowed himself exactly thirty seconds to internally freak out.

“I’m sure you must have questions,” James said as he placed the water on the table.

“The only ones for right now concern helping you. All others can wait. Besides, they might be answered as we talk.”

He nodded. “Okay. So what are your questions?”

“Do you have any triggers that you know of? If you have panic attacks, is there anything you know that does or doesn’t help you?”

He thought about it for a minute, which Sam appreciated. “I have triggers regarding the Winter Soldier. A special set of words, spoken in Russian, that turn me back into the Winter Soldier. There’s a trigger that can immobilize me. It’s meant for them to use if I ever turn against them, but if I can’t hear them, it doesn’t work.” He shrugged with a slight smirk. “I got some noise-cancelling headphones and turned the music up. Couldn’t hear a thing they said.”

Sam chuckled. “That’s smart.”

“Thanks. As for panic attacks... I don’t know. Not when I’m awake, I think, but I have nightmares that can force me into panic attacks when I wake up.”

“Okay. And is there anything you do to help get out of that attack?”

“I looked online after the first few times and found some things that looked like they’d help. I look around and find five things to see, four things to touch, and three things to hear. By that point I’m usually okay. I’ll get up and get some water. I can’t ever go back to sleep again, regardless of what time it is, so I know my sleep schedule is screwed, but I’m still going, so I’m attributing it to the fact that I also have a version of the serum.”

Sam sighed. “That’s not incredibly healthy, but I’ll let it pass.” He smirked at James. “I’m honestly kind of surprised you’re adapting so well. It took Steve months to even consider talking to me.”

James sighed. “That’s ‘cause he’s a stubborn bastard who doesn’t know what’s good for him when it hits him in the face.”

Sam laughed. “You can say that again.” He sighed and sat back, regarding the man in front of him. “Anything else you’d like to discuss?”

James shook his head. “I’m open to any questions you have, though. I know I don’t have to answer if I don’t want to, and don’t worry about sounding polite. I’ll understand.” He offered a slight smirk.

Sam nodded. “How much do you remember?”

“Enough. There’s still memories coming in every day, but I know who Steve is. I know who I was back before and during, I know what I did. The details are fuzzy. Those come mostly when something else nudges them. Something I or someone else says.”

Sam nodded. “How does it work? Is the Winter Soldier in your head still, trying to get out?”

James tilted his head. “No, not really. I know there are some things I do that lend more to that behavior, but it really was the opposite; when I was the Winter Soldier, everything that made me, me was pushed into a little box in my mind. I could see, hear, and feel everything that happened, but I couldn’t control it. It’s not something I suggest.” He offered another slight smirk, a flicker of real emotion. “But the opposite doesn’t really happen. I don’t have split personalities. I’m either me, or I’m a puppet.”

“Well,” Sam said, leaning back. “Damn.”

“That’s about how I’d describe it, yeah.” He picked up his own glass and turned it in his hands, drawing Sam’s attention.

“How about the arm? How’s it feel?”

“It doesn’t,” he grinned. “There’s no sense of touch really, only pressure and temperature, but none of it hurts. There are times it can hurt up around the shoulder where it’s attached, but I put a bag of frozen peas on it and I’m fine.”

Sam pursed his lips. “Still, I don’t like it. I’d like to get you in to see Tony, but I have the feeling that won’t happen quite yet.”

Bucky just shrugged with a smile.

“Yeah.” Sam sighed again. “Well, I don’t know if you’re averse to medications, but there’s one that can work for PTSD-induced nightmares.”

Bucky nodded. “Side effects?”

Sam smirked sadly. “If it works, nothing. If it doesn’t work, increased insomnia and nightmares. But only for as long as it’s in your system. If you take it for a week and it doesn’t help, you’ll be back to where you were before by about day ten.”

James considered it, then nodded. “I’d like to try. Thank you, Sam.”

“Not a problem. I’ll call the pharmacist for you and get a prescription going. If you don’t mind, I’m going to stop by once a week. Hopefully the same time every week, but you never know what might pop up.”

“You’re an Avenger. Things are gonna happen.” He shrugged. “It’s okay. I’d like to have a weekly appointment, if possible, but I understand if things come up.”

“Do you have a phone?”

“Yes.”

“Mind if I give you my number? That way I can text if I’m ever called out or if there’s something I can’t get out of.”

Bucky nodded and handed over his unlocked phone. “Thank you.”

“Not an issue.” He stood after handing his phone back. “It was really great speaking to you, James. Thank you.”

“Bucky,” he responded, standing with a smile and offering a hand. “I maybe should’ve led with that.”

Sam shrugged and accepted the hand, shaking it. “I didn’t want to assume. Thank you, Bucky. I’ll see you next week.”

Bucky nodded and walked him out, shutting and locking the door behind him. He’d just brought Sam’s water back to the kitchen when there was a knock on his door. “Forget something?” He asked with a grin when he opened it. His smile faltered as he saw who it was.

“Natalia?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also y’all... everyone go read snarkymuch’s Broken!verse. You won’t regret it! It’s Stuckony—which I don’t usually like—but they’re such an amazing author, you can’t help but fall in love. Kudos to them because that was the first time I realized “oh yeah, meds are a thing, not just therapy.” 😂
> 
> Anyways. I’m writing chapter 5 right now. It should be up soon!


	5. Meeting Natasha

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me posting twice in a week? More believable than you might think.
> 
> In all seriousness though I bailed on like eight different multi-chaptered fics and I KNOW and I’m SORRY but I promise they’re not really abandoned! I’m working, I swear!!

“Natasha, actually. You’re a hard man to find.”

He swallowed. “I don’t want to fight.”

She softened. “I’m not here for that. Can I come in? I want to talk.” He opened the door wider, motioning with his hand. “Thank you. So, obviously you remember me. The me you knew, at least. I’m somewhat different now. I’m good, for one thing, or at least on the good side this time. There’s still plenty of red in my ledger that needs to be wiped out, but I’m handling it.” She collapsed in his chair. “How’re you doing?”

He followed and sat opposite her on the couch. “I’m dealing as much as I can be. You understand.”

She nodded. “It gets easier. That’s the one good thing. Nightmares, right? Paranoia? That’ll all fade as time goes on. You might have some nightmares occasionally, and you’ll never get over looking over your shoulder as you walk down the street. The best table at a restaurant is the one with the best view of the front door and the bathrooms or kitchen. But it does get easier. Besides, people want to help now.”

He smiled at her. “Thank you.”

“My visit isn’t purely generous. It’s a bit selfish.”

“Oh, well then, you can just go ahead and see yourself out,” he joked. “What is it?”

She pointed at him. “See, that’s funny. Steve needs to take lessons from you. He’s got really morbid humor.”

“Trust me, I do too. It comes from living during the Depression.”

She groaned. “Now there’s two of them. Okay, look. Steve’s majorly moping around. I don’t know what you’re looking to find out here, and I’m not pressuring you into coming back before you’re ready, but I thought I’d let you know. Steve’s waiting for you.”

“He knows I’m here?”

”No. He doesn’t know anything, at this point. But he’s waiting regardless.”

Bucky nodded slowly. “I can’t go back yet.”

“I understand,” she nodded. “Oh, and before I go. You met Sam.”

“Yeah. He’s cool. I like him.”

“Don’t ever refer to him by-” she shook her head. “I can’t even say it. What you used to call black people. It’s... it’s the worst racial slur out there.”

Bucky thought. “You mean the one that rhymes with Tigger?”

“Exactly,” she nodded. “He’s a cool guy, but he will punch you in the face if you ever say that word.”

“Noted,” he chuckled. “Thanks for the heads up.”

She leaned forward and looked at him seriously. “Have you had Starbucks yet?”

He shrugged. “It wasn’t really a priority.”

“Unacceptable.” She stood with a grin. “I’m picking out some clothes that don’t make you look like a sad trash hobo, then we’re going out for Starbucks. You’ll survive five minutes out in the real world. Besides, you’ve got me.” She shrugged. “Where’s your clothes?”

He pointed down the hallway. “First door on the right. I don’t have many.”

“Then we may have to go shopping. I have standards.”

Bucky blinked at her before beginning to smile. “I think you might be exactly what I’ve needed.”

“I know I am,” she replied. “But It’s nice to see you figuring it out. Here. These jeans, this shirt, and this jacket.” She handed him three hangers. “I’ll be out here waiting. Five minutes, then we’re doing something about your hair.”

He chuckled as she walked out, closing the door behind her, and began to get dressed. He had to admit, she knew what she was doing; the jeans were rather tight—a pair he’d snagged when he first went on the run—but they looked good. The shirt was just a plain red, and she matched it with a black leather jacket. He considered his shoes and decided to wait for Natasha to tell him which ones to wear. He had an old pair of white sneakers or his black combat boots. The boots would match color-wise, but he wasn’t sure it was wise to look so... assassin-y.

He walked out to see her smiling at him. He smiled back and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “It looks good. I’m not sure about the shoes.”

“Combat boots. But come over here first.” She patted the couch in front of him. “I need to do your hair. Do you want to brush it, or do you want me to?”

“You can,” he said quietly.

She paused. “Are you okay with this?”

He nodded and squared his shoulders. “I’m not used to people being so close when they’re behind me. The only time that happens is when I’m in a fight. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Good luck,” she chuckled. “That won’t happen, trust me. You taught me, then I went out and learned even more. I know all your moves and then some.”

“I’m not sure that’s making me feel better about having you behind me,” he joked, but loosened. “Okay. Go ahead.”

“Okay. It shouldn’t take long. You’re lucky I brought a hair tie with me, otherwise this would’ve been a disaster.” She continued to speak as she did his hair, and by the end of it, he was actually relatively relaxed.

He moved a hand back to feel all his hair in a low ponytail pulled most of the way through. “It’s called a man bun,” she supplied. “It’s very in right now.”

“Because that what I need,” he mumbled, and she laughed.

“It is, actually, and you’re welcome. Now come on. I’m taking you to Starbucks and then the mall. You need more than two pairs of shoes, and a good leather jacket.”

“I have a leather jacket.”

“You have a sad excuse of a leather jacket. We’re getting you quality. And don’t worry, I’ve got Stark’s card.”

He chuckled. “I’m not actually hurting for money. I may have raided a few Hydra bases.” He shrugged at her look. “After what they did to me, they owed me a few thousand. Or a few million.”

She just looked at him. “And you have two pairs of shoes and half a leather jacket. And you live like this.”

He shrugged. “I don’t need much right now. I don’t want to risk damaging anything valuable if they come after me or if I have a flashback.”

She hummed. “When’s the last time that happened?”

“They haven’t come after me yet, but the last flashback was roughly a week ago.”

She nodded. “How long did it last?”

He shrugged. “Half an hour or so. I guess I probably should’ve told Sam about it, but.” He shrugged again. “He’s coming over again sometime next week. He’s gonna text me.”

She looked at him as she placed a hand on the doorknob. “Are you okay to go out? Would you rather go another day?”

He shrugged. “I’m fine. I know no one will recognize you if you don’t want them to, and I’m not important enough to know, so no one will pay us any attention. I’m willing to do whatever you want.”

“Good,” she grinned, and pulled the door open.


	6. New Experiences

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so there’s a slight possibility of some timeline incongruities within the fic; I’m going to go back and look at it and fix it if need be. So be on the lookout for that.

They walked and talked, continuing all the way through the Starbucks line, pausing their conversation briefly to decide what they wanted. “You decide. I can’t even begin to imagine what any of this is gonna taste like. I don’t even know what I like anymore.”

She nodded and continued right where they left off. “Are you up to talking about Steve? I can understand why you won’t come back yet, but you’ve gotta see that he’s gonna flip when he realizes you’ve been here all this time.”

Bucky sighed. “I know. I’m still trying to figure out how to tell him. You can talk about him. I want to know how he’s doing. I want to see him, but I can’t yet.”

“Okay, but why not?” She asked. “Look. I get why you won’t. But that’s not can’t. It’s won’t.”

He sighed again. “I don’t know. I want to... I want to be better. Before he sees me.”

“I’m guessing me telling you he won’t care is a moot point.”

He shrugged. “I know he won’t care. But I do. I want to be worth his time.”

“You already are.” She took a sip and put her drink down to the side, spreading her hands out in front of her. “He misses you an insane amount. He couldn’t care less what you’ve done or who you’ve been. You’re you enough. He just wants you back.”

“And if I’m not ready to go back?”

She shrugged and grabbed her drink again. “I won’t force you and I won’t tell him anything. It’s ultimately your choice. I just thought I’d ask.” She nodded to his drink. “How is it?”

He grabbed the plastic cup and stirred it with the green straw before taking a sip and nodding. “Are you sure this is actually coffee, and not just a milkshake?”

She shrugged. “It’s got mocha in the name. That’s enough coffee for me.”

He chuckled and stood, offering her a hand up. “Should we get going to the mall and finish these on the way? And what did you get?”

She handed her drink over. “Some kind of caramel thing. It’s good.”

He tried it and nodded. “That has no coffee in it.”

“Shh, it’s my guilty pleasure,” she teased, and began walking, taking her drink back before sliding her arm through Bucky’s, locking elbows.

“This is nice,” he admitted. “I’d somewhat forgotten what it’s like to have friends.”

She hummed. “You’re living there all alone, right? What about neighbors?”

“I specifically looked for a place that didn’t have neighbors. I can deal with the shitty apartment and owner as long as no one complains about the noise. I do still have nightmares most nights, and most of those times I’ll wake up screaming.”

She sighed. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

He shrugged. “Don’t I? I know enough to know I should, at least with some people. And if my secret’s not safe with the Black Widow, who can I trust?” He smirked.

She chuckled. “Your faith in me might be misplaced. I’m about to destroy the whole of S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“Why?”

“It’s infested. Hydra planted moles that no one knows about.”

“Besides you.”

“Besides me,” she agreed. “Remember Rumlow?”

“I thought he died,” Bucky said mildly.

“Nope. He’s part of S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“Well,” Bucky said, and Natasha nodded.

“Exactly.”

“What’s your plan? Why are you here, taking me to Starbucks and the mall, and not taking down Hydra?”

“Why can’t I do both at the same time?” She asked innocently, then grinned at him. “I downloaded every incriminating file I could find. They’ve got stuff on everyone, including you and me. The second I release it, I’m ambiguous, at least in terms of media. I’ve worked very hard to get where I am today. This could potentially destroy it. And you, too. They’ve got stuff on you. I could probably find your folder if you want to see it, but they’ve got all your missions.”

“I don’t care. If it were just me, I’d release it.”

“I know. But I want you to have some semblance of a normal life before I do. So, Starbucks and mall.”

He nodded, understanding. “You’ll release it after we’re finished.”

“Exactly.”

He considered it. “What if I wanted to get a haircut? What style wouldn’t they recognize?”

She grinned at him, then just as quickly sobered. “You’d be okay with that? With someone standing behind you with sharp blades in their hand?”

He shrugged. “No. Not anyone. But I’d trust you.”

She smiled at him. “Tonight, then. We’ll go back to your apartment. And please, for the love of God, find a better place. Actually...” she trailed off, thinking, then pulled out her phone. “I’ve got the perfect place.” She pressed a few buttons and waited for the call to connect. “Clint? Hi, yeah, great, thanks. Listen, I need a favor. Got any room in that apartment building still? Any place with no immediate neighbors?” She listened, then nodded. “Perfect. Thanks. I’ll come pick up the key tomorrow.” She ended the call and slid the phone back into her pocket, grinning at Bucky.

“I’m guessing that was Clint Barton. Exactly how many people are gonna know about me before Steve does?”

“He won’t interfere,” she promised. “He knows not to, if I ask for a favor.”

Bucky hummed and nodded.

“Alright. So I’ve got a new apartment. What’s the rent?”

“Didn’t you say earlier that you took a bunch of Hydra’s money? Why are you concerned about rent?” He gave her a look, and she sighed. “A favor also means no rent.”

He chuckled. “I can pay. I just need to know how much.”

“If he knew who he was housing, he wouldn’t let you pay. Trust me.”

He chuckled as they walked. “So I’ve had new food, I’m getting new clothes, and tomorrow I’ll have a new apartment. I seem to be moving up in the world.”

“You could say that,” she agreed mildly, then gestured up ahead at the mall. “You could definitely say that.” She looked at him for a second before nodding. “Sunglasses. Those’ll be easy to find.”

He raised his brows, but followed her. Twenty minutes later, he had his first bag. “What now?”

She grinned and spread her hands out, encompassing the mall in front of them. “Now it’s whatever you want.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alsoooo I just saw Hamilton for the FIRST TIME AND IM STILL NOT OKAY so if someone wants to come scream about it with me.... then by all means. 😉


	7. New Experiences Pt. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We all know I can’t title so.... leave me alone 😂

They took their time exploring the mall, walking into whatever store caught their eye. Natasha dragged him into the Vans store, then he grinned and walked into the Converse store. He walked out of both shops with bags.

“Clothes?” She asked, linking their arms again, and he nodded.

“Lead the way.”

She took him to Express and American Eagle before finding clothes she liked for him. “Here. Every man needs a dress shirt. Try this on. And take these pants, too. And this jacket. Try the pants on with the shirt and the jacket on with your shirt.”

He blinked, then nodded and made his way to the dressing room, walking back out a minute later. She looked at him and nodded. “Turn around.” He did so, and smiled nervously at her.

“Good enough,” she nodded. “I want to see the jacket. And you need another pair of jeans. What size are you?”

He blinked at her. “I’m not sure.”

She sighed and motioned. “Give me your jeans, I’ll see.”

He handed them over and she looked at the waistband, muttering to herself. “Okay. Put on your regular clothes again and try the jacket on. I want to see it. I’m gonna grab you some t-shirts and jeans.”

He nodded and slipped back into the stall after grabbing his jeans from her. He quickly put on everything she asked and stepped outside the stall, looking around.

“You’re looking for your redhead friend, right?” A store associate asked, smiling. “She’s right over there.” She pointed around the corner and Bucky nodded, smiling at her in thanks. She stopped him before he could walk away. Blushing, she asked, “Do you know if she’s single?”

He blinked, not expecting that, then grinned at her. “I don’t know, but I’ll be sure to ask for you.” He made his way around the corner and saw her looking through t-shirts.

“Hey,” she said, thrusting a pile of shirts at him. “Try these on. Wait, let me see the jacket first.” She took the shirts back and motioned him back.

“By the way, that girl over there wants to know if you’re single.” He inclined his head back towards where she was, badly pretending to be busy.

She hummed. “She’s cute. I might be. Jacket’s a yes. Take one of these in with you, they’re all the same size. If one fits they all do. And grab a denim jacket on your way back.” She pointed to the rack holding the jackets. “Medium should fit, but grab a large too. I wanna see both on you.”

He grabbed the top shirt off her pile and walked back to the dressing room after grabbing the two denim jackets she’d specified.

He tried the shirt on and put a jacket on over it, walking back out to see her talking with the girl. She quickly ended the conversation and approached Bucky. “I’ll need to see the shirt by itself, but the jacket’s a yes. Which one is that? I don’t even need to see the other one. Give it to me, I’ll put it back.”

“This is the medium. Want me to take it off so you can see the shirt?” He handed her the large jacket.

“Yeah, lemme see it. What I can see looks good.”

“Nat, is it really a good idea for me to be wearing short sleeves? My arm is kinda noticeable.”

“You won’t be a fugitive forever, and anyways you’re gonna want short sleeves for your apartment, even if you’re just using them as pajamas. Speaking of which, we should get you some pajama pants. Remind me later.” She pushed him back into the stall and blocked the door with her body. “Go ahead, take the jacket off. I’m the only one looking.”

He sighed, chuckled, and did as she asked. She nodded. “Short sleeved shirts were made for you. And they fit you. God knows what size Steve wears but they’re one step removed from indecent.”

Bucky chuckled, “I’ve seen them. He’s always been that way, ever since the serum. He still thinks he’s a small. I think he likes the feeling of tight-fitting though, since he couldn’t find anything like that before the serum.” He turned and looked at himself at the mirror, shrugging. “Yeah, looks good.”

“Exactly. Give me the tags for that and the denim jacket, we’re buying them and you’re wearing them out of the store.”

He chuckled and tore the tags off, dropping them in her outstretched hand, before shrugging the jacket back on. “How about the Converse too?”

“Perfect thinking,” she grinned at him. “You can grab them, I’m gonna go check out.”

“Sounds good. Thanks, Nat.”

“My pleasure.” She hip-checked him as she passed him to grab the other various clothing items, grinning at him, and he grinned back.

“Where to next?” He asked, once she’d returned with the clothes paid for and bagged. “And did she put her number on the receipt?” He craned his neck to look at the bottom of the receipt. “Are you gonna call her?”

“I might.” She locked arms with him again as they walked out of the store. “It’s hard, as an Avenger. We’re constantly being called out for work, and our job doesn’t exactly lend itself to safety.” She glanced at him. “You’re more okay with this than I thought you would be.”

He looked at her incredulously. “What, you think you invented gay?” He grinned at her. “It was one of the first things I looked up. If I can be myself, I want to be fully myself. Did you know there’s a parade in June?”

“As a matter of fact, I did,” she chuckled. “If you don’t mind, what’s your orientation?”

“Orientation?”

“What gender, or genders, are you attracted to?”

“Oh. Uh. I’m gay.” He shrugged. “I thought I was straight, or even bi, but that might’ve just been the time. It wasn’t kind to people like us. Fairies.”

“That’s another thing,” she said, pointing at him. “A lot of people don’t like that word. Gay’s fine, and personally I don’t mind it, but it’s not politically correct to say it. Same with queer.”

He grins at her. “Maybe you should be helping me reintegrate back into society, instead of Sam.”

She laughed. “I’ll tell him and then he’ll get all sad at you.”

They grinned as they made their way farther into the mall, suddenly interrupted by Natasha’s phone. She pulled it out and frowned at the screen. “Romanoff.” She listened for a second, then nodded. “Be there in ten.” She slid it back into her pocket and turned an apologetic look on Bucky.

“I get it,” he promised before she could say anything. “Go save the world. Then come back and help me cut my hair.” He grinned and pulled her into a hug before watching her sprint away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there’s numero 7! I’m REALLY excited about this one, y’all; I was talking about it with a friend a few weeks ago, and I realized this was an idea I’d had roughly three years ago, finally seeing completion. I’m so excited to finally be here!
> 
> Anyways. Kudos and comments give me life, as always! I’m always down to yell about any of these characters. Bucky’s a sweetheart and Natasha can sit on me, please. Pepper’s a badass and Clint (who we haven’t seen yet, but just wait!) is a disaster but we love him anyways.


	8. Another Battle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s more Bucky and Pepper! This friendship should hopefully progress even more; I’m in the middle of writing chapter 12, and so far the theme seems to be Pepper, then Sam, then Nat, then Pepper (which is now), then Nat, then Nat and Clint, then Sam. Then hopefully more Pepper. 😂 and then, way at the end.... Steve. 😂 it’s coming though, I promise! Slowly but surely!
> 
> Also I have no idea how long this fic is gonna be. My OCD dictates that each chapter is around 1,100 words, and I’m still writing, so I’ve got no idea how much longer it’ll be. As soon as I know, though, y’all will know too, I swear!
> 
> Anyways. Housekeeping over. Hope you enjoy the Pepper-Bucky friendship!

He was calm. Really. He was.

It was just that... she’d been normal. He’d liked spending time with her.

But she’s an Avenger. He’s not. Not yet, at least, and he wasn’t even sure he’d want to be one, even when he could. When he came back.

He sighed and pulled out his phone, smiling a bit when Pepper’s contact came up.

**Pepper Potts**

**Bucky:** Hello, Pepper. I was just with Natasha and she had to leave. Avengers business, apparently. Is Tony out too?

 **Pepper:** Everyone is. Want to come over and we can try not to worry together? I’m sure you’re also wondering what’s happened.

 **Bucky:** I’ll be there in 5.

With that done, he pocketed his phone and grabbed the bags with a sigh. He almost pulled his phone out again, to warn her it would be a little longer than he’d originally said, but decided to bring his new clothes with him. If nothing else, they would serve as a distraction.

His phone buzzed.

 **Pepper:** Want me to send a car over?

 **Bucky:** That’s alright. I’m not at home anyways. Be there soon.

 **Pepper:** Okay. I’ll have the back cameras disabled again. Ask Friday to bring you up to the 68th floor.

He couldn’t help the smile as he pocketed his phone once again and started walking. It was nice, having someone care about him again.

It wasn’t a difficult walk, and he found himself in front of the highly conspicuous tower in no time. He made his way around to the back, using the same doors he had the first time.

“Bucky,” Pepper greeted him, relieved, when he stepped off the elevator.

“Pepper,” he smiled, and made his way inside. He dropped the bags by the couch and turned to her, opening his arms.

She smiled and walked into the hug, sighing when he wrapped his arms around her. “Thank you for coming.” She stepped back and addressed the ceiling. “Friday, initiate whatever privacy protocol we have now.” She waited a second, then muttered, “Oh, for Heaven’s sake- Friday, I solemnly swear I am up to no good.”

“Privacy protocol initiated,” Friday reported.

She chuckled and shook her head. “I swear that child is going to be the end of me.” She grinned ruefully at Bucky. “I probably should’ve turned that on last time you were here, too, but I was a little... preoccupied.”

Bucky shrugged. “No harm done. And... did you just call Tony a child? I’m not disagreeing, just wondering.”

“Oh!” She laughed. “No, there’s a kid, he’s Tony’s intern, except he’s basically Tony 2.0, but with more pop culture references.”

“You’re telling me Tony doesn’t use pop culture references.”

“If we were still in the nineties, then they would be pop culture references. They’re too old to be pop now.”

Bucky just chuckled. “Well, if you’d like, I had a couple ideas on what we could do. We could even have the news on in the background.”

“Sure,” she said, sitting on the couch. “What did you have in mind?”

He gestured to the bags. “Natasha took me shopping.”

“About that,” Pepper interrupted. “I didn’t tell her, I swear.”

Bucky chuckled. “I know, it’s fine. She followed Sam and approached me after he left.”

Pepper sighed. “I swear, trying to get them to do anything is like herding cats.” She shook her head ruefully. “You went shopping, you said? Do you want to show me what you got?”

“Only if you want to see,” he promised.

”Bucky,” she said seriously, “take my mind off whatever stupid stunt Tony is probably pulling right now.”

Bucky chuckled and dragged the bags around the couch in front of him. “It’s nothing much. This outfit, for one-”

“Which looks very nice, by the way.”

“-thanks. And a few other shirts, some jeans... another leather jacket.” He pulled it out to show her. “And a pair of Vans. She insisted. I wanted the Converse, though.”

“Nice choice.” She looked through the shirts. “Oh, I like this one.” She held it up, and he smiled.

“Me, too. I didn’t even know she grabbed that one.”

She suddenly grinned at him. “Friday, turn on whatever news station is reporting the Avengers live. You,” she said to Bucky, “Fashion show. I want to see these on.”

He chuckled and accepted, walking to the bathroom she’d pointed out.

He tried on the first shirt Pepper had pulled out—a specked gray with the NASA logo—and walked back out to see Pepper enthralled by whatever was on TV. “How’re they doing?”

“Good, so far, it looks like. I can’t really tell. But it looks like they’re doing okay.” She finally looked at him and nodded. “Short sleeves look good on you.”

He chuckled. “Natasha said the same thing.”

“Natasha was right. What else do you have?”

“Like four more shirts. We didn’t have a lot of time.”

“I want to see them.”

He chuckled and returned to the bathroom. He didn’t know when this had become his life, but he liked it. Distracting Pepper while the Avengers saved the world.

“You might have to help me tease Natasha,” he said, next time he walked out of the bathroom.

She looked at him immediately this time. “Why’s that?”

He grinned. “Because there’s a cute girl in one of the shops who gave Natasha her number.”

Pepper laughed. “It would be my pleasure. You’re okay with it?”

Bucky chuckled. “It would be rather hypocritical if I wasn’t, considering I’m gay.”

Pepper shrugged. “I’ve seen some biphobic gays. Nice to know you aren’t one of them.”

Bucky blinked at her. “Yeah. Uh, that’s it? No reaction?”

“Would you like a reaction?” She curled her legs under her and faced him more. “It takes a lot of courage to come out to someone. I find not making a big deal out of it helps.”

“Huh,” Bucky said, thinking. “That makes sense. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Now go try on the other shirts.”

He chuckled and did so, then relaxed on the couch with Pepper once he was finished. “They’re gonna be okay.”

“I know.” She sighed. “I just worry. I need to stop thinking about it, but I also need to know what’s happening.”

Bucky hummed, nodding. “I get it. Could we maybe discuss my business idea? Would that help?”

“I’m sorry,” she said, her face pained. “I haven’t been good about keeping in contact, have I?”

“It’s okay,” he promised her. “I should’ve been better about it, too.”

“I’d love to discuss your ideas. What’ve you got?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit 11.13.20 - I wrote “Jarvis” instead of “Friday.” Whoops! I’ll be going through the rest of the fic and making sure nothing else happened.


	9. Developing the Business

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So in case it escaped y’all (and it’s really not an obvious thing), some of the chapter titles are supposed to be steps. Step 9: Developing the Business. It might be a stupid idea, and it most likely would work better if all the chapters were like that (for example, Step 8: Another Battle doesn't really make sense. Like at all).
> 
> Anyways. Chapter 9 is here and I’ve got up to chapter 13 written, so it’s at least 14 chapters long. But it’ll probably be more like 15-20. 😬 enjoy?

“My first problem... well, they’re all kind of related, actually, but I think this is the first problem... advertising. Specifically to the people I want to apply.”

“Your niche in the market,” Pepper nodded, recalling their earlier conversation. “Flyers could work, as could word of mouth. Maybe even give some to doctors or therapists to give to their patients who are vets.”

“I don’t want to put the flyers just anywhere, though. First of all, half the vets I met only leave their part of the alley at night, and by then it’s too dark to see anything. And if we leave flyers on the secretary’s desk or something, I could be getting interest from people who aren’t vets.”

“Then we’ll hand out the flyers. And we’ll only give them to the vets themselves or to doctors or therapists, under strict instructions to only give them to vets.”

“That could work,” Bucky allowed. “Which brings me to my next problem. Has Stark Industries developed any kind of engine for an 18-wheeler that doesn’t require diesel? More eco-friendly?”

“No, but give Tony two days.” She grinned. “We can have those in production in no time. Should we start small at first?”

Bucky nodded. “I’m wondering if we shouldn’t wait and see who’s even interested.”

“That might be a good idea,” Pepper nodded. “Any other concerns?”

“I want to help the vets, not just give them a job. I should maybe talk to Sam about this instead, but I want a therapist on-staff, maybe more than one depending on how many vets are interested. But I can’t send them home at the end of the day, mostly because a lot of them don’t have a home. I did that and I don’t want it for anyone. Natasha offered me an apartment that Clint owns. Do you know if he has any more? Or how many apartments he has available?”

She shook her head. “We could ask Natasha. Or Clint, if you’re okay with him knowing about you, too. Or I could ask him.”

Bucky sighed and shook his head. “I have the feeling I’m not gonna last much longer before everyone knows about me, Steve included. It’s fine, I can ask. But I don’t even have Natasha’s number, let alone Clint’s.”

“I’m sure Natasha will get in contact as soon as possible, but if you’d rather I give you their numbers, I can.”

“No, you’re right,” Bucky nodded. “She offered to cut my hair, actually, and I think she’s gonna help me move.”

“Well then. How about we get started on designing your flyer?” She grinned at him and grabbed a tablet, and he grinned back.

Not too long later, Friday interrupted. “My apologies, I thought you might want to know the Avengers are on their way back and are expected to land any minute now.”

Bucky cursed softly, checking his phone for the time. “I’ve got to get going. Will you give Nat and Clint my number? Sam already has it. I’ll text them about the flyers.”

“Of course,” she nodded, helping him gather his things. “Can we meet next week sometime? I can get out to a Starbucks for probably an hour. I’ll text you?”

“Sounds great,” he promised, hugging her quickly before running to the elevator. “All the way down, Friday. Ground floor.”

“Right away, sir.” The doors opened as soon as he reached them and closed as soon as he got in, barely giving him time to turn around and smile at Pepper.

He reached the ground floor and stepped out of the elevator, freezing as he saw who was walking towards him.

The entire Avengers team.

He panicked. Natasha was the first to notice him and elbowed Clint before turning to Steve. “So Steve, there was something I wanted to ask you...”

He could’ve kissed her. Steve turned to her, and Bucky bolted out the side doors, hardly caring if he made a noise. He was out of there.

He ran all the way back to the main street, beginning to walk as he tried to get his heart to beat back in its rhythm. He almost jumped as his phone buzzed in his pocket.

**Unknown Number**

**Unknown:** You owe me one, big time.

It wasn’t signed, but he knew who it was, and he chuckled as he answered.

 **Bucky:** I know I do. Thanks, Nat.

He added her contact information as she texted again.

 **Natasha:** I’m coming over at 6:30 with Chinese. I’m cutting your hair then we’ll meet Clint at his apartments.

Bucky checked his phone. 5:45. He sent an affirmative text and walked home, thinking about everything he had to do. It wasn’t much—his current apartment wasn’t much—but he at least wanted to clean up and hopefully pack his clothes.

Precisely forty-five minutes later, Natasha was knocking on his door. “Open up,” she called, “I brought food!”

Bucky grinned as he let her in. “How’d the mission go?”

“Fine,” she shrugged. “Uneventful. Half of these missions... we go because we know we’re the only ones capable. They’re not really a challenge, not to us.”

Bucky hummed. “And the other half?”

She smiled at him ruefully as she passed him a carton of lo mein. “You know what we do and why we do it, Bucky.”

He just smiled back at her and picked up his chopsticks. “You brought scissors, right?” He checked, grabbing a piece of her chicken. She glared at him playfully for a second before answering.

“They’re in the bag. What kind of cut do you want?”

“Maybe something like I had before? I want to know what you think, though.”

She hummed. “You can pull off pretty much anything. The long hair looks good on you, but I’ve seen pictures from the war. That’s what you mean, right?” He nodded. “Okay, I can work with that. It’s actually not too different from today’s style. How about a little shorter up top?”

“If you think it’ll work, sure.” He shrugged. “There’s not much I’m not willing to try.”

“What wouldn’t you try?” She asked, curious.

He smirked at her. “A mohawk.”

She snorted. “No worries there. That might be one hairstyle you can’t pull off.”

He hummed. “There’s something I want to ask you.”

“There’s a possibility I won’t answer.” She shot him a smile. “Go ahead.”

“Earlier today, you were flirting with the girl at the shop. But I also saw you checking out that guy at the food court.”

She smiled. “You want to know how I identify.”

“If you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. Technically the term is biromantic. I’m asexual, so I don’t experience sexual attraction, but I’m not necessarily repulsed by sex. I like men and women, but I don’t want to have sex with them.”

He nodded slowly, taking it in. “I think I understand. Thank you for explaining.”

“No problem,” she grinned, draining the rest of her soda. “Haircut?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I’d forgotten I made Nat ace in this fic and I just. I need to say something. Because there’s this guy I’m kind of interested in (I’m also biromantic and ace, much like Nat in this fic) and he asked why I identify as ace. As if it was a choice. If any of y’all are ace, what do you think? Is being ace a choice? Because I definitely didn’t choose to be one step removed from sex-repulsed. I don’t know. I’m just kind of... disappointed.
> 
> Anyways. Hope you liked the chapter! Next one should be up either on Thursday or next Monday (because my current posting schedule is Mondays, though I’d like to post twice a week if I’m able).
> 
> Also, if any of you have read Plus One (with Kobik), there should be a new chapter of that with her baby brother up soon! 😊
> 
> Edited in the wee hours of 7/29: that is correct, this fic has an end in sight! 17 chapters! For those of you who have read it (Trez and Alisa, I’m looking at you 😉), I’ll say it again in the next chapter, but this fic does officially have 17 chapters and only 17 chapters (as much as 17 chapter can be considered an ‘only’), and I’m so excited to have the end in sight for another fic! More notes to come in the next installation (on next Monday), so be looking out for those!


	10. A Series of Unfortunate Events

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really it’s just one unfortunate event. Here’s the plot twist, the climax, the conflict, whatever you want to call it. Finally. After 10 chapters.
> 
> ....anyone ever think I write too much? 😅 
> 
> Anyways. 17 chapters. And I feel bad because the only Stucky y’all are gonna get here is like... maybe 3 paragraphs at the end of chapter 17.
> 
> BUT. There’s more. Because there’s always more, with me.
> 
> The current plan is to finish posting this. The first part of “One Step at a Time” technically takes place at the end of chapter 17; you’ll see where. Then we pick up with a new story (because the plots are (somewhat) different and because this story would be too damn long otherwise) that takes place after all of this (I don’t know how long after) that’s gonna have lots of Stucky. And also lots of drama, because hand to God, none of the Avengers know how to communicate for shit. Besides Pepper, because obviously she’s an Avenger and obviously she’s the exception to every rule. 😉 
> 
> Anyways. So not a lot of Stucky happening in this fic, but subscribe to the series if you’re not already, because there will be more!

She sat him in front of her in his tub. “Easiest place to clean,” she said, when he turned wondering eyes on her. “Feeling okay so far?”

He cleared his throat and nodded. “Still nervous. It doesn’t matter who it is, it’s someone behind me with a blade. I don’t like the thought of that. But it’s you, and for the most part I trust you. So it’s not as bad as it could be.”

“It seemed to help earlier when I talked as I did your hair.” She ran her fingers through his hair, wetting it with a spray bottle.

“I think it did, yeah. Or maybe just both of us talking, like we are now.”

“Well I can definitely do that. What do you want to talk about?”

He closed his eyes as she began cutting. “I don’t know. I didn’t really talk a lot, you understand.”

“Fair point.”

“This... well. Not the part with the scissors. But if I can ignore that... it feels good.”

She was silent for a second. “How much do you remember?”

“I’d like to think I remember everything, but I thought that before, then I kept getting new memories. I think at this point it’s just little details coming in.”

“Do you remember, before, did you touch people a lot? Hand, arm, around their shoulder, whatever? Even just fixing their hair or adjusting their clothes.”

“All of the above. Cleaned Steve up when he came home after alley fights, too.”

She sighed. “And now, thinking about it, when I’m not touching you-” she lifted her hands from his scalp- “do you feel like you’re gonna crawl out of your skin?”

He thought for a second and rolled his shoulders. “A little, yeah.”

“And then with Hydra. You didn’t touch them, right?”

“I would’ve been shot.”

“Yeah,” she agreed ruefully. “Okay. I think I know what’s going on.”

“Okay?”

“You’re touch-starved, Bucky.”

“I’m what?”

She sighed. “Okay. There’s something like five different love languages. Your primary one might be physical touch. You haven’t been touched in a long time, and it’s uncomfortable for you. There’s nothing wrong with you, you just need more touch. Tell you what, after this, we’re gonna go sit on the couch, watch shitty TV, and not think about anything else for at least an hour. I’ll text Clint and tell him we’ll move you in tomorrow.”

Inexplicable tears burned in his eyes. “Oh. Uh, thanks.”

“And you know something else,” she continued, “tell me if you don’t have a nightmare tonight after that. It could be part of it.”

“Really?”

“Definitely. It affects your mood. Affects all sorts of things, really.”

“Huh.” He had to admit, it did make sense. He felt better—more grounded—when she was touching him. He let his eyes drift closed.

“Still doing okay?” She asked hima few minutes later. “I kind of forgot to talk. Sorry.”

“Fine,” he answered quietly. “It’s okay. I don’t know that I need it anymore.”

“As long as you’re doing okay. I don’t want you to spiral.”

He chuckled softly. “I won’t, I promise. This is feeling good.”

“Good,” she repeated, sounding proud of herself, and he chuckled.

A few minutes later, she spoke up again. “I think I’m finished. Wanna see?”

He opened his eyes, blinking a couple times, and began to smile. “Sure.” He stood and held out a hand to help her up before brushing off his clothes. “How much hair is on me?” He asked with a grimace.

She laughed. “Enough. You probably won’t get it all off by doing that. You’ll need to shower and wash the clothes.” She stood with him in front of the mirror while he inspected his hair. “What do you think?”

“I like it,” he nodded. “Thanks, Nat.”

“You’re welcome,” she smiled, and kissed his cheek. “Shower. I’m taking your key and getting you pajama pants. I’ll be back in fifteen.”

He chuckled. “Thanks. Again.” She just grinned as she walked out.

He quickly showered and wrapped a towel around his waist, walking to his room to grab a shirt. Along the way, he heard a noise in the living room and paused to look, expecting Natasha.

It wasn’t Natasha.

Two Hydra agents stood staring at him as he stared at them. Finally, he sighed. “You couldn’t wait two minutes so I could at least get some clothes on?”

One of the agents waved him on, and he nodded in thanks. He thanked whatever deity was out there that his phone was on his bed.

**Natasha**

**Bucky:** Two Hydra agents in my living room. They’re letting me get dressed but they won’t wait for long.

 **Natasha:** On my way. 5 mins.

He nodded to himself, mentally tallying everything he could do. Earbuds and loud music could work, but first he had to find his earbuds. He wasted a couple minutes looking for them and eventually found them under his pillow, where he decidedly had not put them. He tried to put them in discretely, so the men wouldn’t notice them, but they were a bright white. Bucky was pale, but he wasn’t white like the earbuds.

He was probably screwed.

 _Maybe not,_ said a little voice in his heart. After all, Natasha would be back soon. If she said five minutes, he knew she could make it in two. Which meant she was almost there.

Unless there were other Hydra agents waiting for her.

He sighed and played a random song before tucking his phone into his back pocket and walking back out into the living room. “Look,” he said, spreading his hands out in front of him and hoping his voice wasn’t too loud. “I really don’t want to do this. You don’t want to do this. So how about you just leave? That way, I don’t have to get blood on my floor, and you don’t have to get hurt. Or worse.” He shrugged.

The men looked at each other then advanced on him.

A right hook to one and a kick to the other, and they were down for about a second. Bucky didn’t want to kill them, just stall them.

The guy he’d punched stayed down for longer than the other guy, wiggling his jaw. Bucky internally winced. He hadn’t wanted to seriously hurt either of them.

The second guy, the one he’d kicked, had fallen on the sofa and almost bounced back up. Bucky focused on him while keeping the second guy in his sights. He ducked to avoid a blow and felt a sting in his leg. He looked down to see a dart sticking out of his thigh, and he glared at the first man. “A tranq dart? Really?”

The man just shrugged and advanced, but suddenly the floor was coming up towards Bucky, and he could do nothing to stop it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh, cliffhanger, what’s gonna happen? 👀 
> 
> In all seriousness though... I write what I need. So guess what my primary love language is. And guess what I’m not getting in quarantine. 😬 I’m *thriving*! Ahaha...
> 
> ...someone help me


	11. Movies and Such

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so here’s the deal..... I write what I need. Right now, I need cuddles. Which means I write cuddles.
> 
> ...anyways. Enjoy!

“-ucky?”

_Go away._

“Bucky?”

_He was sleeping._

“Bucky, I need you to wake up.”

 _No._ Except the bed wasn’t very comfortable, and he felt kind of stiff, and the tiredness was going away.

He cracked his eyes open, and Natasha breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank God. How’re you feeling?”

He blinked at her, and the events of the past day came rushing back.

He huffed out a breath and shut his eyes for a long second. “Fuck.”

“Just about,” Natasha agreed. “Can you stand?”

He struggled up. “What happened to-”

“Taken care of. It’s amazing what you can do with a phone call.”

He looked around at the bedroom he was decidedly not in when the man tranqed him.

“Did you... drag me in here?”

“Me and Clint.”

Right on cue, the man came walking in, throwing a lazy salute with the hand not occupied with a Chinese takeout container. “Is this really all the Chinese that’s left?”

“Beggars don’t get to be choosers.”

“Except _you_ called _me_ -”

“Clint,” she warned, but she was smiling.

He shrugged and held out his hand for Bucky to shake. “Hi. Clint Barton.”

“Bucky Barnes,” he replied, shaking his hand. The encounter was strangely normal. “Thanks for helping.”

Clint shrugged. “Nat promised me food and movies.”

“One possible movie,” she reminded him. “Give us a minute.”

He hip-checked her as he walked out, and she laughed as she closed the door. “Somehow, he’s one of the normal ones.” Bucky hummed, and she sighed as she studied him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to bring anyone without you knowing, but I needed help, and Clint’s a good guy.”

“It’s okay,” he promised her. “I just wish it was under better circumstances.”

She shrugged. “He doesn’t care. And about the movie. He doesn’t have to be here if you don’t want, but he’s the kind of guy who’ll casually put his feet in your lap, except he knows exactly what he’s doing. He’s how I realized I was touchstarved, too. Well. I say realized. He told me.”

“You were?” He asked, a lot of things suddenly making sense. She nodded, and he blew out a breath before smiling. “Does he know any good movies?”

“His favorite TV show is _Dog Cops_ , so we’ll have to see on that one. You’re okay with him staying?”

Bucky shrugged. “I’m moving into his apartment and he helped you move me so my cover wouldn’t be blown. I think I owe him one.”

“You can repay him later. Or not at all. He doesn’t care.”

“Are you trying to talk me out of it for some reason?”

She held her hands up. “I just want to make sure I’m not pressuring you into it.”

“You’re pressuring me _out_ of it,” he grumbled, but slid his arm around her shoulders. “It’s fine. Seriously.” He opened the door and walked with her to the couch, where Clint had monopolized one full side, laying with his knees up and his head on the armrest. He looked between Bucky and Natasha, and Natasha nodded, then brought her hands up.

She quickly signed something, and Bucky looked away, squeezing her shoulder as he slid his arm off and walked to the kitchen. He chanced a look back at them a minute later and they were still signing. “If this is something I don’t need to know,” he said, looking down at the counter, “then it should maybe be in a language I don’t know.”

Natasha paused. “You sign? They taught you that?”

He smiled. “I sign, but I learned it before. Steve was half-deaf, and it got worse when he got sick. Couldn’t hardly hear a thing. We both learned sign. His ma did, too.” He took a drink of water to steady himself.

Clint chuckled. “He can join the club. Does that mean I can take my hearing aids out and we can turn subtitles on?”

Bucky and Natasha looked at each other, and Bucky shrugged. “I’m okay with it.”

Natasha looked at Clint. “You won’t fall asleep?”

Clint just shrugged. “I can’t promise that. You can shove me if I start snoring.”

Bucky chuckled and walked back into the living room. “So, Clint, Natasha tells me you’re the champion of shitty movies.”

“Fuck you, _Dog Cops_ is an excellent show,” Clint told Natasha, who just smiled at him. “And _Sharknado_ is a masterpiece.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Natasha said, grinning at Bucky as she sprawled on the couch, hip touching Clint’s knee. She patted the couch on her other side for Bucky.

He smiled and sat next to her, barely not touching, nodding when she looked at him and put her hand on his thigh, asking if he was okay with just the tilt of her eyebrows. She smiled back, the same tight-lipped smile he gave her, and leaned into him.

He hadn’t realized how tense he was until he finally started to relax. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Natasha and Clint having a conversation with just their facial expressions, but he didn’t pay attention to it until Clint draped his legs over Natasha’s lap, barely skimming Bucky’s hip with his toes. Bucky moved ever-so-slightly closer, and Clint laid down more fully, putting his feet on Bucky’s leg where Natasha had just patted him.

He slouched in his seat just a bit, chuckling when Natasha stole the remote from Clint when he paused on a rerun of _Dog Cops_. “You’ve seen this one,” she sighed. “Twice.”

“It’s a good show!”

“Twice.”

He threw his hands in the air in mock frustration, and Natasha made an interested sound as she came across another movie. “How do you feel about romance?”

Bucky shrugged. “Can’t say I have any preference.”

Clint flapped his hands to get their attention and started signing, looking at Natasha. “You can’t say anything about _Dog Cops_ when you’ve seen this movie three times.”

“You saw it twice in a week. I’ve seen it three times in a year.”

“The last time you saw it was barely three weeks ago!”

“Still longer than _Dog Cops_. Besides, you’re just going to fall asleep anyways.”

Clint just grumbled, motioning for her to keep it playing. She smiled brightly and leaned back into Bucky. “You’re gonna love it. It’s called _Just Like Heaven_.”

He chuckled and leaned into her the barest amount. “I can’t wait.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 11, done! Only six more!
> 
> ...so who can tell I saw Just Like Heaven for the first time recently? 😂 honestly I loved it. Ik it’s old but it’s good.


	12. Moving

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y’all get an extra chapter because today is Sebastian Stan’s birthday!! Thanks to Awesome Best Friend because without her I wouldn’t have known 😂

He was asleep, and then just as suddenly he wasn’t. Something shifted underneath him, and he snapped to attention, body still just as lax as before; nothing changed except he was aware of his surroundings as much as he could be without opening his eyes.

She knew, though, she always knew, and she stilled. “Sorry,” she whispered. “Clint’s heavy.”

He opened his eyes and smiled at the redhead. “‘S okay. I guess you’re crashing here tonight, huh?”

“We can leave.”

“Nah.” Bucky yawned. “Stay. Just promise you’ll stop me if I wake up not knowing what’s going on and try to hurt you.”

“Has that happened yet?”

“No one here for it to happen to, but no.”

“Then it won’t happen,” Natasha said confidently, pulling him down onto her lap as she knocked Clint’s feet off. The archer mumbled, turned over, and fell completely off the couch, groaning quietly as he blinked into awareness.

“I’m not sure the couch is big enough for all three of us,” Bucky observed, allowing Natasha to continue to push him onto her lap.

“Clint’s slept on the floor before.”

“I have a bed.”

“Yeah, and it’s all the way over there. Now shh.” She ran her fingers through his hair, and he hummed as his eyes closed.

“You make a very convincing argument.”

“Damn right I do,” she said with a smile in her voice, scratching lightly at his scalp with her nails.

He drifted off again as she continued to run her fingers through his hair, knowing, for the first time in a long time, this was what security and contentment felt like.

* * *

“Bucky,” Natasha sing-songed what felt like not even five minutes later, running her fingers through his hair again. He grumbled and glared up at her. She laughed at him. “Sorry. I’ve gotta use the bathroom. Plus Clint’s making breakfast, which means we might be going out to eat.”

Bucky couldn’t help the snort as he rolled off her, bumping her arm with his elbow and giving her a smile as he made his way to the kitchen. He knew she’d understand the thanks for what it was.

“Hi! How’d you sleep?” Clint signed, and how he could sign excitedly this early in the morning, Bucky didn’t know. He waved, then tapped his left wrist, asking for the time. He was still too tired to sign.

Clint shrugged, turned, caught eye of the clock on the microwave, and gestured at it like a game show host.

Bucky snorted and nodded, then walked over to beside Clint, grabbing a coffee mug from the cabinet and offering it to him. Clint looked at Bucky like he’d just handed the blond a pile of gold. Or maybe new arrows. Golden arrows.

Tired Bucky needed to work on his metaphors, he decided, and grabbed another mug for himself. The coffee was already almost finished brewing, and Bucky bumped Clint’s arm with his companionably as they waited, another silent thanks.

It wasn’t that caffeine did much for him anymore, but he liked the taste, especially with cream and sugar. It was about the little things that make him happy, he’d realized, so those three items—coffee, sugar, and cream—were constants on his shopping list.

It was a very short shopping list.

As he watched Clint spoon sugar into his coffee then grin sheepishly at Bucky, he was able to grin back and spoon just as much into his own coffee. Clint grinned excitedly and set his mug down, signing. “Nat always gives me shit for the amount of sugar I put in my coffee.”

“Nat has mochas at Starbucks,” Bucky countered, enjoying the look of shock on Clint’s face. “You didn’t know?”

“I did. She took you to Starbucks?” The look on Clint’s face was pure betrayal, and Bucky laughed. He leaned into the hug Natasha pressed against his side.

“What’re you laughing at? He looks betrayed.”

“He found out you took me to Starbucks. Have you never gone with him? Should I feel special?”

“No, I’ve definitely gone with him. But you’re also definitely special.” She winked at him, and he snorted and shook his head, taking a sip of coffee. “Breakfast?” He signed at Clint, who grinned and nodded, moving aside to reveal one bowl with pancake mix and another with eggs. Bucky nodded and got to work helping him, not questioning where the ingredients came from.

Breakfast was a fast, easy affair, and after they’d all freshened up, Clint and Natasha looked at Bucky expectantly. “Moving day?” Bucky guessed, smiling a bit when they nodded. He just shrugged and did what Natasha told him, because after one day, she knew the apartment better than he did.

He was entirely unsurprised.

Moving into Clint’s apartment was almost as easy. Clint’s dog, Lucky, decided to join the party. He loved getting scratched, and Bucky loved scratching him, so he failed to see the problem, opting to sit on the couch with Lucky’s head in his lap while Clint asked him some things and Natasha told both of them where everything was gonna go.

Bucky eyed an empty spot. “Nat?” He called, waiting until she popped out of the hallway to continue. “How much is a piano?”

She followed his gaze to the spot and grinned. “You’ll want a baby grand. I know a person.”

Bucky chuckled. “What don't you know a person for?”

She thought for a second, then answered teasingly, “Assassinations.”

“That’s because you _are_ the person,” he countered, laughing. He caught what she’d done, not mentioning him as an assassin, and he appreciated it. He smiled at her, knowing she caught it.

“Four days,” she said, nodding to the spot, and he smiled in thanks at her again.

Eventually Clint and Natasha left, taking Lucky with them, to Bucky’s dismay. Looking for something to do and finding nothing, since Natasha had not only stocked his fridge with what he already had but also put away his cooking utensils, he brought out his phone.

**Sam**

**Bucky:** Hey, Nat and Clint helped me move. I’m in Clint’s building. Do you need the address?

 **Sam:** No, I know it. Apartment #? We might as well schedule while we’re at it.

 **Bucky:** 317\. Tuesday work?

 **Sam:** 11am it is. Fair warning, we’re going out.

Bucky chuckled as he pocketed his phone again. For the first time in a while, he was looking forward to something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand there’s chapter 12. 5 more- we’re getting close! ❤️


	13. Grocery Shopping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand here’s 13! Grocery shopping with Sam. At least one of you knew this was happening eventually, and here it is! 😉
> 
> Now here’s the deal...... I’m about to be kinda SWAMPED with 3 part-time jobs and part-time school. I do have the rest of this fic written out and I can continue to post on schedule, but other fics (such as the continuation of this one) will suffer. However, I’m not willing to give less than my best, so I won’t rush. I hope y’all understand. ❤️

Tuesday came sooner than Bucky thought it would, and 10:45 saw him pulling his hair back into a bun as he walked back to his room to make sure he knew where his shoes were. He’d lost one under the bed earlier, and he didn’t feel like facing Natasha’s wrath after losing something she’d bought him.

At 11:01, Sam knocked on his door, and Bucky opened it with a smile. “Sam, come in.”

“Hey, Bucky. How’ve you been?”

Bucky shrugged, lip tilting up a bit. “Can’t complain most days.”

“Ah, but I’m here to talk about the other days.” He grinned and grabbed the orange juice from Bucky’s fridge, completely at home in his kitchen. “I called those meds in for you, so we’re gonna go pick them up today.” He put the orange juice back after pouring a glass, and he looked at the contents of the fridge, mentally cataloging them. He did the same with the pantry, and Bucky was suddenly worried about what Sam had planned for him.

“We’re not just going to pick up my meds, are we?” Bucky hazarded a guess. He wanted to sigh when Sam just smirked at him. “You know I have been grocery shopping.”

“If I know the type of man you are—and trust me, I’ve met your type at the VA before—you went in for less than five minutes to pick up what you needed. You didn’t stop to look at everything new.”

Bucky did sigh, then, in the face of Sam’s challenging expression, because he was right and he knew it. “Goddamnit. Fine.” He put his shoes on and gestured for Sam to lead.

The walk to the store was nice, and by the time they got in, Bucky was almost looking forward to it. Sam grinned at him. “We’re gonna buy so much weird shit.”

Bucky laughed. “Did you do this with Steve too?”

Sam’s grin dropped a bit. “No. He was very adamant when we first met. Said he didn’t need help.”

“Goddamn that idiot,” Bucky muttered with another sigh. “Please tell me he’s since listened to reason.”

“Somewhat,” Sam shrugged. “Came to a few VA meetings. He texts me sometimes, when he knows he needs more than he can do on his own.”

Bucky took a steadying breath. “Color me not surprised.” Another breath, then he took in the store. “Lead the way, Sam. Show me all the weird shit to buy.”

He laughed but obliged, starting with produce.

“The hell is _that?_ ” Bucky asked, looking at the green leafy vegetable like it had offended him.

“Kale. It’s one of the newest superfoods. It’s basically spinach.”

Bucky made a disgusted sound before he could even think about it, and Sam laughed before replacing the vegetable.

“They’ve got frozen pizzas here. They’re not great, but they’re a staple. Everyone’s eaten one.”

Bucky shrugged. “I like pizza. Might as well.”

Sam grinned at him. “You’re gonna fit in well here.”

Bucky returned the look before stopping with Sam in front of the frozen area. “How many types of pizzas is that?”

Sam shook his head. “More than is healthy for anyone.”

Bucky chuckled as Sam grabbed a pizza and moved on. “I wanted to ask you a question.”

“Shoot.”

“I don’t know what you know, but I’ve been talking to Pepper about a business.” He explained his idea, and Sam’s brows shot up.

“That’s really cool, man. You’re really gonna make a difference.”

“I hope so. I wanted to maybe ask a favor, though.”

“Go ahead.”

“A lot of these guys I want to employ, they’ve got issues. They’re vets, it kinda comes with the package, but they don’t have anyone to turn to.”

“Send ‘em over to the VA. We can help.”

“That’s kind, but not exactly what I was wondering.” Sam nodded. “Depending on the demand, it might be better to have a therapist on staff.”

Sam nodded again. “You want to know if I’ll do it.”

“Not if you don't want to. All I need is a therapist.”

“I’ll think about it, make some calls if I have to, but it could work out better for me. The VA, believe it or not, isn’t too understanding about me dressing in a metallic bird costume and running around with the Avengers.”

“I have no idea why,” Bucky shot back, “especially considering you’re one of the only people on the team who isn’t enhanced in some way.”

“Natasha.”

“She was born in 1948.”

Sam stopped and looked at him. “You’re serious.”

“Yep.”

“Well. Damn. Clint.”

“He’s the other person,” Bucky nodded. “Tony’s armor counts as enhancement, before you ask.”

“Hm,” Sam said, and stopped in front of the peanut butter. “What do you want?”

Bucky blinked at the display. “What the hell is sun butter?” Sam just laughed. “No, I’m serious. Almond butter? There’s no way that tastes anything like peanut butter.” He sighed. “Woulda been useful, though.”

“Useful how?”

“Steve was allergic to peanut butter. And milk. Couldn’t make anything for him.”

“You know there’s different milks now too.”

“I’m not from the 1800s, Sam.”

“No, okay, but milks Steve could’ve had. Rice milk. Almond milk. Soy milk. There’s even actual milk with the lactose taken out. And don’t ask how they do that, I don’t know and I don’t _want_ to know.”

Bucky nodded, grabbing the closest jar of creamy peanut butter and putting it in the cart. “I won’t, then. Milk would be nice to have. Clint went out this morning and got creamer because he wanted it for his coffee, but I don’t have much else in the way of milk.”

“We’re getting you milk and cereals,” Sam decided with a nod. “Cereals first, come on.” He marched them down another couple of aisles and stopped in front of the boxes.

“That’s a lot of cereal.”

“Yep.”

“Most of it looks fake.”

“Yep.”

“That doesn’t worry you?”

“Nope.”

“Well.” Bucky took a breath and looked at the cereals. “What do you suggest?”

“Corn Chex, Rice Krispies, and Honeycomb.”

“Huh.” He found the boxes and looked at them. “I guess they look the most normal. At least they’re not purple and blue.” He pointed to the Captain Crunch.

Sam just grinned at him and grabbed a bag of Fruity Pebbles. Bucky looked at him disappointedly. “Sam, you’re going to ruin yourself.”

“Ah, but what a way to go,” he said with a grin, dropping the bag in the cart. “Come on. Fruit, then milk.”

They were on their way out when Pierce walked in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun, dun, DUN!!!!
> 
> Okay but seriously. Pierce? In a store? That can’t be good. Will they know? Will Pierce catch them? Will something else happen? Only one way to find out...
> 
> ...stay tuned for Chapter 14 next Sunday!
> 
> Okay now that I’m done acting like a Saturday morning cartoon narrator... kudos and comments give me life! I’m always willing to scream about all of these characters and even about Bucky’s business (because honestly... it wouldn’t be amiss in our world either)! Thanks for reading! ❤️


	14. Avoiding Pierce

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! I’m going to attempt to update every Sunday or Monday and every Thursday, at least until this fic is finished. We’ll see how long I’m able to keep it up. 😅 
> 
> The long-awaited Pierce chapter... enjoy!

Bucky hissed out a curse and bolted around a corner, Sam following curiously and a lot more sedately. “Hey, man, you okay?”

“The man that just walked in.”

“Yeah. Pierce. Bit of a dick, but generally a good guy.”

Bucky shook his head. “No. No. He’s not. He’s Hydra.”

Sam’s eyes widened. “How sure are you?”

Bucky let out a muttered curse. “He put a fucking bit in my mouth and zapped me so I’d forget Steve. I’d say I’m pretty fucking sure.”

“Shit,” Sam said, and peeked around the corner. “Okay. I’ll take the cart, go outside and make sure there’s no one noticeable. Stay here until I give the all clear.” He put a hand on Bucky’s shoulder and squeezed. “We’ll be okay.”

“Okay,” Bucky nodded. He looked around the corner after Sam and let out a breath once he was outside.

Bucky looked back over at Pierce. He was facing away, examining some fruit, and Bucky let himself relax a bit.

Until, that is, Sam came back in with the cart. He stopped in the aisle with Bucky and pulled out his phone, dialing Natasha as he spoke. “Three guys. Made it look like I’d forgotten something.” The phone connected, and he grinned as he greeted her. “Hey, Nat. Tired of us yet?”

“Depends. Us who?”

“Hi,” Bucky supplied, and she laughed.

“Hey, boys. What’s up?”

“Pierce is Hydra and he’s here with three of his buddies. We can get past Pierce but his guys are pretty much right outside.”

“Where are you?”

Sam rattles off their address. “ETA?”

“Four minutes. I’m not too far. Give me another three to take care of them.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” Sam sighed. Bucky agreed.

“I know,” she said. “See you in a bit, boys.” With that, she ended the call.

“Seven minutes,” Sam told Bucky. “You gonna be okay?”

“Do I have much of a choice?”

“Not really. I could distract you.”

Bucky sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what I want right now.”

Sam studied him, then nodded. “Tell me a story.”

Bucky started and glanced at him. “Excuse me?”

“Tell me a story. Get out of your head. Tell me something you remember. If not something good, at least something that can make you smile.”

Bucky let out a little disbelieving laugh. “Uh, I guess maybe the time Steve tried to adopt a cat?”

“Somehow I don’t think this is gonna end well.”

Bucky laughed again, less hysterically. “He ended up allergic, so.” He shrugged. “It was this little mangy thing outside our apartment building, and a couple’a boys were gangin’ up on it, throwin’ rocks at it, sticks, and somehow Steve chased ‘em out, till it was just him and the cat. He tried to be nice, get close, but he’s got no patience and a whole lotta stamina, so he just... jumped on the cat and held on ‘til it tired itself out.”

“You’re saying the cat didn’t claw his brains out?”

“Oh, no, it absolutely did. He was bleeding all up his arms, a few on his face, and more on his torso. They weren’t deep, but they were long and dirty. I got home and found him curled around the cat and I didn’t know what to think, seein’ him laying on the sidewalk. Then he popped his head up and fuckin’ _grinned_ at me and I ‘bout had a heart attack tryin’a figure out what to do.”

“Oh no.”

“That’s not even the worst part. The worst part is the cat moved, or something, I dunno, but all of a sudden Steve’s body couldn’t take it anymore, and he started wheezing somethin’ awful. The cat got spooked and ran off, and I got Steve upstairs fast as I could. The only thing he said once he could breath again was ‘Buck, I found us a cat.’” He shook his head.

“What’d you say?”

He searched his brain. “I said... I said, ‘You found yourself trouble, is what you found.’” He blinked and gave Sam a small smile. “Thanks. I needed that.”

Sam just smiled. “I know. You’re welcome.”

Natasha materialized at their side, causing Sam to jump and Bucky to chuckle. “Hi, boys. Having fun without me?”

“Now that you’re here, the party can really start,” Bucky grinned. “Are we good to go?”

“You should know by now that I’m good at my job,” she said by way of answer.

“Not doubting, just checking,” Bucky assured her.

She blinked, glanced at Sam, then back to Bucky, and said, “Huh.”

He blinked at her. “What?”

She turned to Sam again. “You catch that?”

Sam chuckled. “He’s friends with Steve, I’m pretty sure it’s hard-wired into his psyche by now.”

Bucky blinked at them both. “What did I do?”

Natasha chuckled and slipped an arm around his waist, making him relax. “You tried to calm me down, make sure I wasn’t actually looking for a fight.”

“Oh.” He colored slightly. “I didn’t realize. It probably is from Steve.”

“Didn’t say it was a bad thing,” she shrugged. “Does make me wonder why you’re dragging your feet about coming back.” She checked around the corner, then quickly ushered him outside. He breathed a sigh of relief in the fresh air.

“You know why I can’t yet, Nat.”

“I know why you won’t,” she corrected. “That’s completely different. It’s all in your head.”

He sighed, suddenly bone-weary. “It is, isn’t it? It’s all in my head. Everything, the good and the bad. And if I can’t distinguish one from the other, that tells me exactly what I need to know about where I need to be.”

“Anyone who says you’re not just as stubborn as Steve has never met you.”

He gave her a small chuckle and leaned on her a bit more, knowing she could take the weight. “I’m gonna sleep for a week when I get home.”

“I wouldn’t blame you. But aren’t you meeting with Pepper this week?”

Bucky sighed. “Yeah. I’ll get up for that.”

Natasha laughed. “She’s not the kind of woman you want to piss off.”

“I know. Neither are you.” He hip-checked her, and she chuckled.

“Besides the whole Pierce thing, did you have fun?”

He thought about it for a second, then nodded. “I did. Today was a good day.”

“That’s good,” she said quietly, giving him a private smile. He returned it easily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, Bucky’s happy! If only that could last...
> 
> For anyone who guessed Nat would save the day, congrats! Can you tell she’s my favorite character? 😅 more Bucky coming up, this time with a healthy helping of angst. Stay tuned!


	15. Nightmare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so angsty Bucky isn’t this chapter, not really. But it is next chapter, so get ready!

A few days later, after his coffee date with Pepper, he texted Natasha, Clint, and Sam, asking if they would help him pass out flyers. They all agreed and met him at his apartment, and he took them to the alleys they needed to be.

He changed subtly in those alleys, Natasha noticed. He walked softer, yet surer, and he had a peacemaking smile ready for anyone he happened to encounter.

“Miguel,” he said, smiling at the man slumped on the ground in front of him. He crouched for the other man to see him better. “Remember me? It’s James.”

“James,” Miguel said in a slightly accented voice. He coughed into his fist and grinned at him before speaking rapid-fire Spanish that Bucky returned. He eventually motioned to his other friends and held out a flyer, which Miguel took eagerly. They spoke for a few more minutes, then Miguel nodded and Bucky stood. “Be well, _mi amigo,_ ” Miguel said, and Bucky smiled.

“You too, Miguel. I’ll see you soon.”

He did the same with most of the people he came across. Cynthia, Ryan, Jackie, Paolo, Ricky, Amanda. He had a smile for each one and spoke in their native tongue. He struggled with Kim, who laughed and told him to use English, that he understood just fine, but Bucky shook his head and continued in Chinese.

After, Sam approached him. “How many languages do you know?”

Bucky shook his head. “I haven’t counted, but there’s not many general ones I don’t at least know the gist of.” He thought about it. “Besides the fact that Hydra was racist and white supremacist, because I don’t know any African or Islander dialects. They taught me the basics of Chinese, and _that_ mission was a shit show and a half, so they never did that again. But I know most European languages.”

“What’s the weirdest one you had to learn?”

He thought about it for a minute. “Probably Romanian. Romania was in the middle of a revolution, and I was supposed to tip the scales. But it was wrong.” He shook his head. “Even now I can’t tell you what made me do what I did, but I didn’t finish the mission. It was the first time I remember going rogue.”

Sam nodded. “Where’d you go from there?”

Bucky chuckled, “I didn’t. I didn’t have anywhere to go, anyone to turn to, so I settled in an abandoned apartment and laid low until in could figure out what to do. They came in one night and tranqed me while I was sleeping. I woke up in the chair.”

“Damn,” Sam said sympathetically, and Bucky nodded. “I’d like to go back, though. It’s a beautiful country.”

“You can take me,” Sam grinned, and Bucky chuckled.

“Deal.”

A week later saw him with his first storage unit and a truck parked out front, the words _J. B. Hunt_ big enough to look official. “It’s finally here,” he murmured, and Pepper grabbed his hand, squeezing it slightly.

“You deserve this.”

“I’m working on knowing that,” he promised her. “This is a lot.”

Another week later, one of the strings on his piano broke. He complained to Miguel, who brightened and told him he could fix it. They set up a date, and that night Bucky went to bed if not happy, then at least satisfied.

So of course that’s when a nightmare decided to rear its head.

He was on the run from Hydra again, except this time the Hydra agents were wolves, quickly gaining on him. One tore its teeth into Bucky’s metal arm, and he shook it off, but it hurt in a way his arm wasn’t supposed to hurt, and he saw beneath the metal casing was his arm. He tore the rest of the metal casing off, throwing it over his shoulder at the wolves, and laughed breathlessly, almost hysterically, at the feel of both his arms.

A wolf ran in front of him and stopped, snarling. It jumped for him, and his first reaction was to raise his left arm, except all of a sudden it wasn’t there anymore. He felt its claws on his chest, its hot breath on his face, and he cringed away, closing his eyes. He knew it was over.

Nothing happened for long enough that he got suspicious, so he opened one eye, then both when he realized he was in bed. He sat up, leaned over, and buried his face in his hands, drawing in a shaky breath. He got to unsteady feet and made his way to the piano, forgetting one of the keys wasn't working, and when he went to play, the sound wouldn’t come out.

He shook his head and backed away, muttering to himself. “No. No. This isn’t a dream, it can’t be a dream, it has to be real, but the piano doesn’t work, why doesn’t it work? This can’t be a dream.” His back hit the wall and he slid down, fists pressed to his forehead.

The shadows melted away as the sun came up, but Bucky stayed where he was, not noticing the physical world. He barely heard the knocking and the voice on the other side of the door. “Boss?” Came an accented voice. “ _Señor_ Hunt? I’m here about the piano?” Miguel waited a couple of minutes, then knocked again. “ _Señor,_ I am getting worried. I am going to find your friend Samuel if you don’t answer soon.”

On the floor of his living room, Bucky wasn’t sure he was breathing anymore. Wasn’t sure he remembered how. He tried, but couldn’t feel or hear anything beyond the beating of his heart. It sounded too loud, too fast, and some distant part of him was concerned about it, but he couldn’t focus on why.

More time passed, which he couldn’t focus on, and another knock came on his door, far, far away. “Buck? You alright in there? Your friend Miguel is worried about you, and I’m starting to get worried, too.” Sam waited another few minutes, then turned to Miguel with a sigh. “I don’t suppose you know how to break in without breaking the door down?”

“I can unlock it,” Miguel nodded, taking out some of his tools for the piano.

“Too many people at once might overwhelm him. Would you mind staying out here?”

“Of course.” He nodded to the door, and Sam tried the handle, grinning at the man when it turned.

“Okay, Bucky, I’m coming in. If you don’t want me to, I need you to say something.” He waited a few seconds, then jiggled the doorknob as he turned it.

He moved towards Bucky, once he saw him, stopping when he flinched. “Bucky?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y’all. Y’all. We’re so close. There’s 2 more chapters. Plus then the whole other story which is like, 100% more Stucky-centric, but like. Semantics. 😂
> 
> Ok so full disclosure..... school starts TOMORROW and I’m not ready. I start my 3rd job next Monday. I’m stressed as all hell. Not to mention there’s a distinct possibility I’ll be moving out soon. It’s just.... it’s a lot, ok? Please be nice to me. I’m a person with a life and I need to figure things out just like everyone else. I haven’t started writing the other story yet. I hopefully will soon but again, school. And 3 jobs. That’s a lot. I write when I can but when I can tends to not be very often, especially when I’m busy like this. I hope to start it soon, but just so y’all know, the first chapter most likely won’t be posted next Thursday. It’d be a miracle if it even got posted this month. Anyways. Thanks for being patient with me!


	16. Two Steps Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yalllllllll we’re ALMOST DONE! And if I’m being honest, it’s bittersweet. I love this fic, it’s an idea I’ve had for probably 3 years at this point, and it didn’t turn out how I’d envisioned, but I like it. I think for what it is, and for when it’s coming... it’s perfect.
> 
> Anyways. Enjoy! Here comes some whump!Bucky, turning into confused!Bucky, and counselor!Sam. I’m hoping to get back to my Sam-centric fic soon, but as I said in the other AN, no promises; after all, college. And 3 jobs. Wish me luck!

“Bucky? If you don’t want me to come any closer, I need you to say something. Or put your hand on the floor. If you don’t want me to come closer, put your hand on the floor.” Bucky didn’t move.

He hadn’t meant to flinch, didn’t really know he had, but there was movement in his otherwise still apartment, and it was unknown and unexpected. He flinched, and the shadow stopped, said something, waited, then slowly continued towards him, curving around to get in front of him.

He vaguely noticed the boots, and some part of him recognized them, but the larger part of him was still blank, numb and confused.

“Bucky, I need you to come back from wherever you are. I promise you’re not where you think you are. You’re in your apartment, it’s Tuesday morning, and Miguel’s here to fix your piano. Your name is James Buchanan Barnes, and you own a trucking company called J. B. Hunt. A few weeks ago we went to the store and you told me the story of how Steve tried to adopt a cat.”

He heard some of the words—his name, Steve, cat—and he frowned, more confused.

“Hey, Bucky, can you hear me? I need you to do something, if you can. I need you to look at me. Look at me if you can hear me, Bucky.”

He could hear him, mostly, and after a minute, managed to bring his eyes up to Sam’s, then back down. “Okay, that’s good. Good. One more time, okay? And this time, keep looking at me. Look at me and don’t look away.”

He looked up at Sam—at _Sam_ —and frowned again. Sam shouldn’t be here. Sam didn’t belong in his nightmares.

“You’re not having a nightmare, Bucky. This is real life, right now.”

No. It couldn’t be. The piano works in real life. It doesn’t work now.”

“Miguel’s here to fix the piano. Remember? You asked him to come over today and fix it.”

But Miguel wasn’t here. Sam was here. Sam couldn’t fix pianos.

Sam gave a little chuckle. “No, I can’t fix pianos. But Miguel is here. He’s waiting right outside.” He called the man to come in, right by his side, and Bucky glanced at him, then back to Sam. “See? Miguel’s right here. He’s going to go make some coffee for us.” He looked up at Miguel pleadingly, and Miguel smiled and nodded before tossing a concerned look Bucky’s way.

Sam shifted, and Bucky looked at him again. “Let’s try something, okay? Let’s count up from one. Up to fifty, then back down. I’ll start, and you join in whenever you can, okay?”

He started. By about forty, Bucky was mouthing along. By forty-five on the way back down, he was counting quietly. By twenty, he closed his eyes, leaned his head back, and relaxed his fists. “I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about,” Sam said firmly. “I’m guessing I know what brought this on, but can you tell me?”

He thought about it for a second. “It was a nightmare. I decided to play piano after, to try and calm down, but the starting key wouldn’t play, and it made me think I was still in the dream.”

“ _Hola, jefe,_ ” Miguel said quietly, holding a cup of coffee for him. “You are okay now?”

“Miguel,” Bucky breathed, and smiled. “Thank you. I’m better.” He took the coffee with his left hand and offered his right to Miguel, silently asking him to help Bucky up. “Well,” he said, and sighed once he was upright. “I guess this was bound to happen sooner or later.”

“Bucky,” Sam asked once they were both standing, “how long were you sitting there?”

He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “Probably since four. I didn’t check the time, so it could’ve been earlier, could’ve been later.”

“Do me a favor next time? Call me before you try to play piano.”

“Will do,” he said with a small smile. It felt broken, and he was grateful when Sam didn’t comment on it. “Thank you, Sam.”

“Anytime, you know it.” He clapped a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “Let me know if you need anything.”

“I will. Thanks again.” He saw Sam out, then turned to Miguel with a sigh. “I’m sorry about that.”

Miguel waved him off. “You don’t have to be okay. I am not okay. So you don’t have to be okay.”

In some backwards way, that made Bucky feel better, and he smiled at Miguel. “Thank you, then. Here’s the piano, and the key that started all of this.” He pressed on the silent key and smirked at Miguel, who chuckled.

“No problem. I can fix it in ten minutes.”

“Sounds good. Want anything? Coffee? Breakfast?”

“Coffee, please.” He was already elbow-deep inside the piano, so Bucky just nodded and went to make him a cup.

“Thanks for getting Sam for me,” he said when he got back.

“He is a good man. A good friend.” Miguel accepted the coffee with a smile. “If it is not overstepping, _jefe,_ I am glad you have a friend like him.”

Bucky laughed. “I’m not that kind of a boss, _mi amigo._ I’m glad you care. I care too, so if there’s anything I can do to help, I’d like to know.”

“ _Gracias,_ ” Miguel muttered quietly, and that was it. Bucky nodded and wandered off to the kitchen, leaning on the counter with his head bowed for long enough he began to lose track of time.

The press of a key made him smile, and he shook himself out of the self-inflicted stupor before striding back into the living room. “All fixed?”

“All fixed,” Miguel parroted, grinning at him.

“How much do I owe you?”

“ _Jefe,_ no need to-”

“Miguel,” he interrupted quietly, “please. Let me do this.”

Miguel grinned at him. “Okay. Then you owe me a song.” He gestured to the piano. “Play me a song.”

Bucky laughed, knowing he’d slip at least a hundred into Miguel’s bag by the time he left, and acquiesced. “Let me think about it for a second.” He sat at the piano and ran his fingers over the keys, smiling at a distant, hazy memory of bars he was too young to frequent as often as he did, more girls than he cared to count, and the smell of whiskey and cigarettes in the air.

He remembered slightly more recently, a year or two later, meeting Mrs. Conaghey and learning her piano. Moonlight Sonata was the first he’d learned and relearned, and by the time he came back into himself, he’d already started. He played through the song, looking to Miguel as he finished.

“ _¡Olé!_ ” Miguel cried, clapping. “Very pretty.”

“Thanks,” Bucky chuckled, heading towards the kitchen—and his wallet—before Miguel could say anything else.

He was satisfied with two hundred in Miguel’s bag by the time he left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like Bucky would want to take care of his people. He knows these guys, lived with them for a while. It doesn’t get much more intimate than that, not with the way he’s wired.
> 
> Anyways. Please tell me everything I said made sense; it’s currently 11:30pm (still Thursday though, so I technically did get it out on time!) and I woke up early this morning so I’m Exhausted. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed! Next, on Sunday, the finale! Stay tuned!


	17. The Other Shoe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bittersweet for two reasons. First, and most importantly: a moment of silence for the man who refused to let the Wakandans have British accents (and seriously, what the heck, Marvel?)
> 
> Secondly, ITS OVER!!! This is the FINAL chapter in this work. I do have an idea for the first chapter of the next work, so ~hopefully~ that’ll be out soon! Again, no promises, because 3 part-time jobs and part-time school mean I get basically no sleep? And also my sanity is slowly being drained away 😬 but other than that, writing’s no issue!

The weeks passed, day in and day out, of the same thing over and over. Bucky would work from home, most days, meeting with his employees once a month, to discuss what was and wasn’t working, and what could be better.

“It’s lonely,” signed Daniel, one of his guys.

“Lonely,” Bucky repeated, looking around at everyone. “Any suggestions?”

“Get a wife,” Kay suggested, and they all laughed as Bucky signed back to Daniel. He laughed and good-naturedly flipped Kay off.

Daniel’s hearing loss was ninety-five percent, Bucky later found out, and he made a mental note to approach Pepper next time they met about getting some hearing aids made. He’d ask Clint, but he assumed all the archer would havewas big and purple, and Daniel wasn’t a big and purple kind of guy. So Pepper it was.

He went and saw Pepper a few times, too, mainly when the Avengers were off fighting the Baddie of the Week. Sometimes they’d watch and worry, sometimes they’d play a game with the TV in the background, and sometimes they’d go out, just needing to be distracted.

It was during one of those distractions that their conversation turned more towards a certain flag-resembling superhero. “It’s been months, Bucky. You have a really successful business, you haven’t had a nightmare in how long? And you generally seem to be really well-adjusted.”

Bucky sighed out a chuckle. “I guess I’m still waiting on the other shoe to drop. It’s been months of good, when all I had for years before was bad.”

“So let yourself have the good,” she pushed. “Let yourself have more than you think you deserve, because trust me, you deserve more than you think.”

“Well,” Bucky said, only somewhat at a loss for words. “Thank you. I promise to think about it, how’s that?”

“It’s a start,” she teased. “Now come on, Tony’s awful at this. If I’m looking for...”

Maybe she was right, Bucky thought.

Maybe he did deserve it. Just maybe.

The other shoe never dropped, it just slowly disappeared from sight. He was out getting coffee one day from a ridiculously overpriced chain featuring a rather conspicuous green mermaid—but, Bucky reasoned, they had a damn good iced macchiato—when he got a call. “Amy, hey,” he said, trying to juggle his drink, pastry, and phone. “Everything good?”

“Boss,” she said warmly, teasingly, and he groaned good-naturedly. “Amy, come on.”

“Bucky,” she corrected with a grin. “Everything’s good, I just wanted to check in with you. Hope I’m not overstepping.”

“It’d be hard to,” Bucky admitted. “I’m not like other bosses. I’m a cool boss.”

Silence for a second. “Who let you watch _Mean Girls_?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he teased. “Everything good with you and Mark?”

“Everything’s great. I never thought I’d have a life again, after. Thank you.”

“It goes both ways,” he told her seriously. “Helping you was the first step to helping myself.”

“Oh, well, if it was selfish then I rescind my thanks,” she teased. “I did have a question, though.”

“Shoot.”

“You know how I joined the military straight out of high school?”

“Right.”

“I never went back and got a degree. I don’t need money,” she said quickly. “The G.I. Bill covers it. But I was wondering what you’d think of me going back to school. I could take online classes so I could still work, but I might need certain days off for exams or whatever.”

“I think it’s a great idea,” he said warmly. “Any idea what you want to go in for?”

“I’d like to become an EMT,” she said shyly. “I like to help.”

“You’re gonna be great at it,” Bucky told her. “Tell you what, put the job on pause. Does the G.I. Bill cover housing?”

“I’m not sure. I’d have to look into it.”

“If it doesn’t, let me know. I’ve got a friend who owes a mutual friend, and she loves me. She’ll let me borrow her owe. I could set you up with an apartment and a stipend if you need it.”

“I can’t possibly ask for all that-”

“That’s why you’re not asking, I’m offering,” he said smoothly. “Let me do this for you?”

She sighed, then chuckled. “You’re too much sometimes. Keep my cab for the summertime, I’ll definitely be back.”

“I’ll put a sign on the door that says _Property of Amy_ ,” he joked, standing to toss his trash and walk out. He saw someone who made him freeze. “Amy? I’m gonna need to call you back.”

“Yeah, I should probably get going too. Ciao!”

He turned towards the person who’d made him freeze and took him in. Wide blue eyes, mouth slightly agape, posture shocked enough a stiff breeze could blow him over. Bucky’s metaphor-addled mind likened it to how he was before, and he almost smiled at the similarity.

He moved almost before he’d made a decision, heading in a beeline straight for Steve. “Fuck,” he muttered after the blond’s own expletive, grabbing his arm. "I know, okay, I know, my place is a block away, hold it together for a little bit longer." He turned and pulled the blond in the direction of his apartment, internally laughing a little hysterically. He’d have to tell Pepper the other shoe dropped in a soft little tap, a nudge, right when he needed it.

Hours later—after Chinese and first, second, and third kisses, he sat on the couch with Steve, both staring blankly at the TV, still muted from the last time Clint had been over. “A lot’s happened since you last saw me,” Bucky murmured, and Steve chuckled disbelievingly.

“That’s kinda obvious, pal.”

“I’d like to tell you about it.”

“That’s good,” Steve said, “because I’d love to listen.”

Bucky sighed happily and leaned into Steve more, knowing he was right where they both wanted him, and knowing he could get used to this again. “What do you know about trucking?”

**Author's Note:**

> And it’s DONE! This is where the Steve/Bucky tag comes into play; I’m sorry it took so long, but Bucky had a story to be told. I had no say in the matter! 😂 but. BUT. This next story. It WILL be different. A lot more Steve/Bucky. The first chapter takes place practically just after this chapter, which intertwines with the first part of this series, the one-shot. You’ll see. 😂
> 
> Anyways. If you’re not already, please consider subscribing to the series! The first chapter should hopefully be out soon-ish; I’m gonna start working on it right now! 😊


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